


I Was Broken Before I Met You.

by SuperAnarchy



Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: (Nobody is underage though), Age Difference, Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Musicians, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Alternate Universe - Singers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Cheesy, Concerts, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, First Dates, Fist Fights, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Infidelity, Love Stories, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Morning Cuddles, Morning Sex, Music Creation, Oral Sex, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Gestures, Shower Sex, Songwriting, True Love, Verbal Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-04-01 20:07:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 108,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4032916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperAnarchy/pseuds/SuperAnarchy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris is the leader of a world famous rock band, Sebastian is this young singer-songwriter-composer propelled into the spotlight at a very young age. They couldn’t be more different, but Chris should know by now that appearances can be misleading.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A hundred thousand words could not quite explain.

**Author's Note:**

> This is obviously fictional, only fictional. Everything comes from my own imagination, I'm not pretending to claim anything.  
>   
> Chapter title is from The Fray's song 'Unsaid' - all chapter titles will be lyrics written by this marvellous band that inspired me a lot while writing :3  
>   
> I also have a [tumblr](http://superanarchy.tumblr.com/) if you wanna chat me up \o/

The urge to interrupt him before he’s finished talking is overwhelming, but Chris lets him continue the interview, biting his tongue inside his mouth. If there’s a topic he loathes more than anything –besides when anyone tries to bring up his personal life during a professional interview– it’s when someone asks him his honest opinion about another celebrity. Who cares about his opinion? Who cares if he thinks the boy is a little jerk?

“Well,” Chris forces himself to not show any sign of annoyance; he tries to not roll his eyes and grits his teeth instead, “Sebastian is surely talented, nobody can deny that.” He rubs his hands together on the table, sweat sticking his palms together.

“Oh, you think so?” the interviewer asks back, and Chris grits his teeth harder; he wants to sigh but he doesn’t.

“I don’t have to _think_ , it’s a fact,” Chris looks away, getting impatient. Before the interviewer speaks again, Chris continues, “I mean, in this business, when someone’s great and all, they’ll win a shit ton of awards. I stopped counting how many times we’ve been nominated together and he walked out of the doors with more prizes than he could hold.”

Chris laughs at that, what else can he do? He learned a long time ago that you should keep your opinions to yourself. And the fact is, he doesn’t even know Sebastian personally so he can’t go ahead and say fiercely “the kid is an idiot,” because Chris has no evidence to prove it. He _could_ be wrong for what that’s worth, but he’s pretty sure he isn’t. Sebastian’s not different from all of the others young superstars he’s met before. They come and they go. Arrogant and talentless.

“And what about the person himself?”

He holds back a bitter laugh. “I can’t say, really, we never had the chance to talk. Bet he’s a sweet kid, that’s all I can say,” Chris lies. He hardens his expression, looking back at the man sitting in front of him; his eyes threatening and his jaw contracting. He keeps his smile on though, squirms on his chair just a little to get more comfortable. He bends over the table, hoping the interviewer will get the message that if they don’t start talking about the album really soon, he’ll walk out of here. He doesn’t care if it’s rude or not, Chris is in no mood to deal with this idiotic interviewer who knows nothing about his job.

Luckily, it’s a minor interview for a minor newspaper, or a blog, or whatever, that will go unnoticed. He stopped paying attention a long time ago anyway, when the dude started irritating him with questions that weren’t related to the main purpose of the interview : _his goddamn new album_. But Chris tries to stay courteous even though all he’s wanted to do since he sat down is to leave. Or punch the guy in the face. One word about his ‘debauchery’ and his nights out and he will punch him, that’s for sure.

Here’s the thing, Sebastian is like this young, extremely talented musician, composer and singer. It’s to the point he can’t walk out of a ceremony without receiving _at least_ two or three rewards – but it’s usually more than that. To the point each and every one of his singles are instantly number one on the charts, to the point he sells more albums on the day of their release than a lot of singers could dream of selling in a lifetime. It’s to the point he’s considered one of the best, not only of his generation, but of the century. Or ever, probably.

Here’s the other thing, Chris is the leader of a world famous rock band. Success didn’t hit them as easily as it fell on Sebastian’s tiny shoulders; it took them years to be where they’re at now. Truthfully, Chris never hided the fact he’s not fond of the ‘new generation’ of young singers, Sebastian included. He made it clear from the start that he thought they were more interested in the splendour of the red carpets and the after-parties than they were invested in producing and creating meaningful songs and music.

If Chris doesn’t carry Sebastian in his heart. It’s not because he means to be an asshole but simply because he thinks Sebastian’s more in the business for the sake of the fame and glory than he is for the real pleasure of music. The boy spends his time on social media and in magazines whereas Chris doesn’t even own an official twitter account; hell, he barely knows how the thing works. And Chris assigns any magazine that publish stolen pictures or tell lies about him.

They couldn’t be more different, and yet…

 

* * * *

 

It’s Scarlett’s birthday party, the place to be tonight and Chris is holding yet another empty glass of champagne. His friends already left home not so long ago, leaving Chris wandering in the apartment and going back and forth between conversations with different groups of people. It’s nothing unusual for the late hour, they’re both married, they’re both parents. Chris is neither of those. He understands. _He does,_ but it doesn’t change the fact he’s now without his two best friends to watch over him, alcohol whispering his name in the tempting noise of the bubbles reaching the surface of his glass. Yeah, he needs another cup.

The party is only starting to gain a second roll of energy and he doesn’t want to think of all of that, not right now. Doesn’t want to think he’s got no one to go home to, no one waiting for him, texting him, missing him. He’ll get plenty of time to think about how miserable his life is when he’s hungover on the following day.

Chris is smoking on the balcony when he notices most of the guests have disappeared to another room. Taking a last drag on his cigarette before crushing it in the ashtray, he makes a step into the living-room, feeling the difference of temperature deep inside; the heat of the crowded place warming him to his bones. He shivers to let his body adjust from the cold winter night to the warm heat of the apartment and keeps walking further in the room.

He hears laughter, and chats, overhears voices singing together accompanied by a piano. A voice, a particular one, heaven to his ears, the other extremely familiar. The room slowly grows quiet and the sound of the melody Chris now recognises is the only thing one can hear. He grabs another glass of champagne and follows the din, entering the other part of the living room and catching the piano on sight.

Sebastian’s sitting by it, fingers floating on the keyboard. Barely touching, flying to a lazy speed over the keys. He's singing along with his friend, Scarlett, who’s leaning against the piano, natural and gracious. Wide smile and enchanting voice, as always.

Jeremy’s looking at her from the couch, a look, meaningful and tender. One day Chris will need to give them a hand to realise they’re made for each other, really, but he’s leaving them a little more time to figure this out themselves.

Right now, Chris leans against the desk in the back of the room near the large window, a tiny smile across his lips that he tries to hide by taking a sip. Scarlett is radiant, stunning in her red dress shaping her in the best way. She’s aging a little more today but she never looked any more beautiful. Sebastian is following her lead, just slightly modifying the musical tones to slow down the song.

Their voices are mixing in a perfect harmony, happiness glowing from where they’re standing. They’re singing one of Scarlett’s songs, one Chris wrote for her and he has to admit, Sebastian is nailing the piano chords.

He takes a few seconds to look around; everyone is captivated, enthralled by the song Chris surprises himself murmuring along. It’s his lyrics, his melody, his everything that Scarlett is proudly singing so well. He tries not to blush, takes another sip to hide the growing heat tainting his cheeks. Sebastian’s good too, he’s _really good._ Chris admits it, he thought Sebastian was the kind of singer to use auto-tune, but his voice is even better than he remembers it. Better live than on the radio at least, that’s for sure. It’s clear and pure, angelic and just… _wow._

When Sebastian’s fingers play the last notes, Chris puts his glass down on the desk at his left and joins the round of applause. Scarlett spots him, smiles even more brightly, her curly hair dancing on her shoulders. Chris returns the best of his smiles in exchange. People are already coming in their direction, greeting them, so Chris stays behind for a little more. Observing.

He lays his eyes down on Sebastian who’s blushing a little, looking at Scarlett like she’s the queen of the world. He and Jeremy should get into a competition to see who could make her blush the fastest, surely it would be hard to find the winner. His hands are on his thighs, wiping the sweat against the fabric of his pants and his eyes are now looking all around him, scanning the room. Looking for people he admires, looking at people who admires him.

Scarlett’s one of the first people who gave Sebastian his chance, spotted his potential. She gave him a lot of advices and guided him through important choices, she supported him so there’s nothing really surprising in having him at her birthday party. Especially this close to her.

She’s always looking after him and talking about how great he is but they’ve _oddly_ never been introduced to each other properly. They saw each other a few times, especially during parties or ceremonies but they always avoided each other; at least Chris is honest enough to say _he_ avoided Sebastian.

Quickly, everyone goes back to chatting and laughing, scattering in the room, it’s always what happens during those kinds of parties. The world would stop spinning for the length of a song, the room silent and adoring, magic happening and then everyone would go back to their previous shenanigans, pretending their ears didn’t just witness and experience the beauty of a one-time jam.

Chris walks up to Scarlett who’s now talking with Jeremy by the piano she hasn’t left, he wouldn’t have bet otherwise. "Here comes the man I’ve been looking for all night!" She says cheerfully, pulling Chris into a sincere hug, "where have you been hiding?"

"Haven’t left the bar," Chris jokes, to which Scarlett frowns with her adorable ‘that’s-not-funny’ expression only she can give without looking like she’s about to commit murder. Because yes, Chris knows it’s not a funny topic to her but better laugh than cry, right?

"Oh!” She exclaims herself, a sudden wave of guiltiness shining in her eyes, “I don’t think you’ve ever properly met guys! Chris this is Sebastian, Sebastian this is Chris," she says, smiling widely.

"Your little protégé." Chris smiles at her before he turns to face Sebastian in one of his theatrical poses, offering his hand to shake.

"Nice to officially meet you, after all these years," Sebastian says, politely shaking it. Hold firm and warm. No doubt the boy has been in this business for quite a while now.

Scarlett looks down at Sebastian who’s still sitting on the stool, "Chris actually wrote and composed the song we just sang."

"All for you," Chris adds, putting his hand back into his pocket.

"Only the greatest for the greatest," Sebastian says softly, a shy audible murmur, looking up at Chris through his eyelashes.

"I think you have a fan," Jeremy comments with a quiet, jovial chuckle.

"Who isn’t?" Sebastian answers louder this time, not losing his own smile, making everyone laugh around him.

“Well if I wasn’t, I would never have signed them, but you’re right, never met anybody who wasn’t a fan of-” Jeremy’s phone interrupts him, ringing into the palm of his hand. Looking down at the screen and already making two steps back he continues, “I need to take this one, sorry.”

Scarlett stares, watches him walk away. “Even for my birthday party he can’t put his phone aside,” she sighs, seeing Jeremy isolating himself from the crowd. Chris looks at her, compassionate. He slides a protective arm around her waist and leaves a kiss on her hair, “You know how he is, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy being here, with you.”

“Yeah...” She says under her breath. Scarlett turns to face Chris, she tip toes on her high heels and kisses his cheek, “ ‘Should check if anyone needs anything, but thank you.” As she starts walking away she adds quietly, “and stop drinking.”

When Scarlett is a few steps away, Chris hears the sound of Sebastian’s voice again, “You’ve known her for long time?” He asks.

“Around fifteen years,” Chris answers, his eyes following Scarlett and her blond hair.

They’ve known each other for a very long time; she’s one of Chris’ closest friends in fact. Actually she's his best-friend. It’s almost like a habit of hers, to pick up young, lost boys and turn them into worldwide famous stars, but that is part of what happened to them, just like for Sebastian.

Chris had this rock band when he was a kid, a garage band with his two best friends who happened to have the same first name as him. They did a shit ton of stupid things back then, made tons of bad decisions, skipped school a lot to be on the roads for example.

They earned their success with every drop of sweat, every sleepless night, every cent spent in gas essence to travel the whole country only to perform in small, obscure venues. They fought hard to create their little place in this business, moved heaven and earth. Gaining audience and respect at every new concert, every new festivals they played at. Gained recognition, a little notoriety month after month, year after year. But that still wasn’t enough to get them signed by a powerful label.

They weren’t doing it for the fame and the glory though, only for the sake of being on-stage, performing, being in front of an unearned crowd and hearing them singing along to the lyrics of a song they never heard before. There’s nothing greater than conquering a hostile audience.

Scarlett was performing at one of those festivals, the band had existed for a few years at this point and she asked them if they’d agree to be the opening act on her world tour because she fell in love with them; their music, their passion, similar to hers. They loved to interact with the crowd but they were mostly aware and grateful of being able to stand there, just like she was.

She said the wide, bright smiles they were wearing when they got out of the stage, the stains of sweat on their shirts and the drops rolling from their foreheads, the fun they had, glowing on their faces, pure happiness, it’s what made her understand they were the rights ones to share her tour with.

It was a lot to consider, it was such an unique opportunity. Scarlett was already a famous singer then, young but really talented and so being offered this chance, that was a life changing occasion. They eventually accepted, signed with Jeremy’s label at the same time. Jeremy wasn’t Scarlett’s producer back then, just a friend of hers and she introduced them to him a few days after the festival.

Jeremy saw them as those passionate and dedicated, resourceful and creative young boys and signed them up right away, propelling all of them under the spotlight. A year later they were making more money they’d ever need in a lifetime.

“That’s a long time,” Sebastian comments, bringing Chris back here with him.

Chris catches his smiles just in time before it fades, “Isn’t that your age, aren’t you like fifteen?” he jokes. Peeking at the glass Sebastian is holding in one of his hands, Chris teases again, “Are you even allowed to drink?”

“I’m twenty-one,” he answers, laughing.

“ _God_ ,” Chris laughs as well, “you’re such a baby.”

Chris suddenly feels old on top of his twenty-nine, almost thirty years old. A few memories of himself when he was Sebastian’s age come back to him, good ones, bad ones. He remembers being on the road with his friends, three big guys sharing a tiny van with their instruments, just before everything went big for them. Greatest time of their lives. Greatest year of his life.

He must zone-out because Sebastian asks, “are you drunk?” and all Chris can focus on are the lights of the room reflecting in the marvellous colour of his eyes.

“Might be,” Chris responds, amused. Fact is: he’s _definitely_ drunk, he passed the tipsy stage when they sang ‘Happy Birthday’ earlier on the night, and he passed the muzzy one when his buddies left him for their households an hour ago. “Are you?”

“Drunk? No. I rarely drink to the point of being drunk. I stop at tipsy, usually.”

“That’s like, a drink or two for you, right?”

Sebastian chuckles, a delicious sound to his ears, “ _yeah_.” He looks down at the glass of champagne he’s holding, the one he barely touched, and then back at Chris, “that’s my second drink actually.”

“It’s still full,” Chris remarks, taking a second or two to gather and connect all of the information. “ _Ooh_ ,” he mocks gently when he understands what Sebastian means by this. Chris gets distracted by the many rings Sebastian’s wearing for a second or two, losing the thread of their conversation again.

“I know,” Sebastian laughs, “sucks, right? I’m already feeling light-headed.”

“That’s a real bummer,” he says, blinking back into their discussion. Clearing his throat lightly he adds, “bubbles are no help, if that comforts you a little.”

“It…” Sebastian frowns adorably, slowly smiling, “kind of does, actually. Thanks.”

Chris is at the point of the night where he feels his body exhausted and sore whereas his brain is fully active, wide awake. He must really be tired though, because Sebastian’s kindly looking at him, cute and adorable and babyish with his glass in his hand. Those puffy cheeks, his messy hair and those two eyes looking through him… Chris just wants to wrap his arms around him.

Here goes the cuddly phase, right before he gets nostalgic, and then will come the sleepy one. He knows each step of his inebriation like the repetitive, pathetic chorus of his life.

“I’m gonna get some fresh air,” Sebastian says, “do you want to join me?”

Chris doesn’t really hesitate, he could use fresh air too, _again_ , so he nods. “Sure, let me just grab another glass of champagne first.”

“Maybe…” Sebastian starts and stops, leaving Chris intrigued. Chris looks at him and waits, so Sebastian continues, “Maybe you can drink mine, so Scarlett won’t be on your back for drinking another one, and I'll give the illusion I can bear more than one glass.”

Chris laughs in response, shaking his head for a few seconds. “That’s… that’s pretty smart,” he laughs again and adds, “Yeah, yeah, okay, sure.”

Sebastian gives him another one of his lovable smiles and they walk toward the empty balcony. It’s stopped snowing outside, but it’s still freezing. Chris grabs the jacket he left near the glass door earlier and pulls out his packet of cigarette, Sebastian follows right behind him, wearing only a thin shirt. He shivers quietly and grasps at the handrail, looking at the city sleeping at his feet.

“I’ll never get tired of seeing New York at night,” he says.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Sebastian nods, observing each and every light on the ground. Scarlett’s apartment is well located, the neighbourhood is quiet but near an animated one. Chris thinks he's never seen a more beautiful view of the city than on Scarlett’s balcony, except maybe from his rooftop but that’s arguable.

“Smoke?” Chris asks as he hands his packet in Sebastian’s direction, one cigarette caught between his lips.

“Nope, but thanks.”

Chris takes a step back then, to light his cigarette; noticing the wind is coming in the wrong direction, he moves on the other side so the smoke won’t hit Sebastian in the face. The boy shivers again and Chris takes off his jacket, alcohol warming him up, he hands it to Sebastian.

“Oh no, no that’s– I’m fine.”

“You’re shaking,” Chris states the obvious, he can hear Sebastian’s teeth clattering uncontrollably. “Take it,” he insists.

He obtains a shy smile and a thankful nod from Sebastian as he takes the jacket off his hand, putting it on and wrapping himself in what looks like an oversized jacket on him. He slides his beverage in Chris’ direction as a thank you. Taking a drag out of his cigarette, Chris observes Sebastian watching the city again. That sweet look, pure and angelic and oh, so beautiful.

“You’re not that bad of a guy as I originally thought,” Chris confesses, exhaling smoke. Sebastian glances in his direction, making Chris panic a little and start to speak fast, “Or maybe that’s just the alcohol talking and soon enough I’ll start babbling about how amazingly talented you are– which is not true, by the way.”

Sebastian’s looking at him now, staring, caught by surprise by Chris’ unexpected confession, but his perfect, endearing smile grows back on the lips Chris desperately wants to feel the softness of.

“I don’t know if I should comment on the part where you thought I was bad seed or the one where you’re saying you don’t think I’m talented.” Sebastian’s leaning back against the balustrade now, apparently more amused than offended by Chris’ words.

“I meant…” Chris stops, thinks, then laughs. “I’m not even sure I know what I meant,” he says, drinking the rest of Sebastian’s glass in one sip, “Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Sebastian smiles, “I’m used to meeting people who already have a preconceived opinion about me. I’m glad you changed your mind though, on the bad guy part at least,” he jokes.

“I didn’t mean you weren’t talented at all, it’s just- _oh shit_ ,” Chris shakes his head, smiling widely, feeling himself digging his own grave word after word. He scratches his forehead, still holding his cigarette between two fingers, “Poor choice of words. Can we forget what I said? When I’m drunk I kind of forget to use filters.”

“I can see that,” Sebastian mocks him with sympathy. “You lend me your jacket so I’m gonna be nice and erase the last minute from my memory.”

“I appreciate it.”

They remain quiet for a minute, long enough for Chris to take one last drag on his cigarette. Sebastian’s back looking at the city at his feet, wrapped in Chris’ jacket, wind brushing his messy hair. Chris starts walking towards him and stops when he feels he’s close enough.

Sebastian glances at the hand Chris just put next to his elbow and straightens, Chris feels his frail body touching his when Sebastian shifts in his arms. Back pressed against the handrail, Sebastian moves a little closer, finds himself in front of Chris, caught between his two muscled arms. He looks up at him and Chris returns his gaze, they remain silent a little longer, just looking into each other’s eyes.

It’s difficult, it really is difficult for Chris to not just lean forward and press his lips against Sebastian’s. He wants to, isn’t entirely sure he could stop Sebastian if he was the one kissing him, but he tries his hardest not to break. They’re so close Chris is sure Sebastian can smell the cigarette on his breath, but he doesn’t seem to mind so much.

Sebastian’s hands shyly grasp at Chris’ hips, gripping at the fabric of his t-shirt only at first, and then presses his palms against his body, fingers finding a solid but soft hold on his waist. Chris witnesses Sebastian’s teeth frivolously brushing the corner of his lower lip, just lightly and before he has to push him away, Chris takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a second.

“Drunken kisses aren’t my thing,” he whispers next to his lips.

Boys way younger than him supposedly aren’t his thing either and yet here he is, attracted by someone eight years – _almost nine years younger_. Sebastian looks insouciant and pure, and kind; and Chris is broken, wrecked, and exhausted. He’s got nothing to offer but tiring ramblings and a warm jacket.

Sebastian smiles tenderly, one hand leaving Chris' waist to move along his chest slowly. Electric shocks sent to Chris’ body, his cold fingers caress the muscled lines of his torso through his shirt, making his body hair rise under their touch. His hand slides against Chris’ neck only to stop once his fingers are delicately scattered on his cheek. Sebastian straightens completely to find himself at Chris’ level, and then he presses his lips softly against Chris’ other cheek, making him close his eyes again.

The wind is howling behind them and Chris feels the heat emanating from Sebastian’s small body, so close but too far at the same time, his small frame bundled up by his jacket. The kiss lasts a second or two before Sebastian looks back at Chris, his thumb brushing at his mouth while Chris opens his eyes leisurely.

“We should get back inside,” Sebastian says.

Yes, they should. Chris doesn’t know when he started shivering, maybe when Sebastian leaned in close and warmed him up and then moved away, but he’s starting to feel cold and he’s sure if they stay here, in this position, Chris will not stay serious for too long. Sebastian starts to walk, catching Chris’ fingers between his; he leads them back to the apartment. Chris follows, absently.

Once inside, Chris leaves his hand and Sebastian takes off his jacket, handing it back to him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he answers but the last part of his sentence is shushed by Jeremy grabbing Chris by the shoulder and speaking lowly, “If I were you I’d pass some water on my face before Scarlett sees you, man.”

“I look that drunk?”

“Well I only know you’re not leaving this house without a taxi, _if_ she even lets you out with a taxi.”

Chances are, Scarlett will make him stay and sleep in the guest room, whether he agrees or not. He’d do the same thing if Scarlett was the one drunk at his place, so he doesn’t mind really, and he's not feeling fine suddenly anyway.

“No taxi,” Scarlett says, appearing in their back. “You look totally wasted Chris.”

“Warned ya,” Jeremy whispers quietly enough so only Chris and Sebastian can hear.

“Guest room is clean and all, if you wanna lie down a bit.”

“Thanks darling.”

Scarlett fakes a smile in response and Chris knows she’s worried, no doubt. She always is. He can’t say she’s wrong to be because Chris is worried about himself too. Jeremy winks at him and takes Scarlett by the arm to lead her away where three people are sitting at a table. It seems like everyone is slowly leaving the party, at least it looks like more than half of the people that were there earlier are now gone.

When Chris looks back at Sebastian, he’s a few steps away, gathering his belongings. He’s searching for something and is apparently unable to find it. Chris leans against the glass door and observes him wandering the room, looking everywhere to find what’s missing to him while he loses himself deeper in his thoughts.

There goes the nostalgia and melancholy.

Sebastian finally walks up to Chris, timid and hesitant. “I think I lost my jacket,” he says raising his eyebrows in incredulity. “Can I borrow yours?” he asks, laughing a little, looking away, endearingly embarrassed.

“Sure,” Chris smiles, grabbing the one he just put on the furniture. “Are you driving home? Because earlier you said you were feeling lightheaded, maybe we should call you a taxi.”

“I was thinking about walking home, could use some more fresh air.”

“Alone?”

“Why not? I live fifteen minutes away.”

“Well it’s dark and freezing outside,” Chris worries, his heart starting to beat a little faster in his ribcage. He likes New York but it’s not the safest city in the world, plus it’s been snowing all night and the sidewalks must be slippery now. 

“I’m gonna be fine,” he answers, but Chris doesn’t believe a word from it. Sebastian notices and he thinks for a second before continuing, “Maybe I can text you once I’m home? So you’re reassured, and if something happens then I have your number. Would that work?”

“I think I’d feel better, yeah.”

“Okay,” Sebastian grants him of one his lovely smiles, looking for his phone in his pocket and handing it to Chris so he can add his number to Sebastian’s contact list. When Chris returns it, Sebastian immediately sends him a short next. “Now you have mine, too.”

They stare at each other. Sebastian smiling and Chris struggling to keep his eyes open, and eventually Sebastian speaks again. “Have a goodnight,” he says, “it was nice meeting you.”

“It was nice meeting you too,” Chris whispers, completely leaning against the glass door with all of his weight.

Sebastian walks in Scarlett’s direction, hugs her, says goodbye and she walks him to the door, hugging him a second time. With Sebastian out of sight, Chris wonders if he should try to see if he can see him from the balcony but decides against it. He goes to see Scarlett, thanking her again, wishing her a happy birthday for the countless time of the night before he makes his way to the bathroom.

He’d take a shower if he wasn’t so lazy, but instead he just follows Jeremy’s advice and splashes water on his face. When he reaches the guest room Chris notices Scarlett has left a bottle of water on the bed with a little note next to it, ‘Drink it! You’ll thank me later.’ He smiles, drinks most of the bottle in only two or three gulps before he gets rid off his clothes, putting his phone on the nightstand. Wearing only his boxer briefs, he falls on the bed, lazily crawling under the blankets.

He doesn’t want to fall asleep just yet. He wants to wait to be sure Sebastian made it home safe, so he fights Morpheus, tries not to succumb to slumber, to stay awake. He’s failing a little more as each minute passes, his eyelids heavier and heavier until his phone finally buzzes against the nightstand.

**Made it home safe and sound! Have a good night, it was nice finally meeting you.**

He was sure only five minutes passed but he might have fallen in a light sleep. Sebastian took a little more than fifteen minutes to walk home, guessing by the time he left and how late it is now, but that isn’t surprising judging by the weather condition. Chris sends a quick response; too tired to reach out for the nightstand, he let his phone fall on his chest.


	2. Baby close your eyes (Don’t open ‘til the morning light).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title from The Fray's song "Syndicate"  
> I'm sorry it took this long to post the second chapter but here it is finally and thank you for all the kind words! Hope y'all like this one ♥

**_When can we see each other? I still have your jacket :)_ **

Chris has been staring at Sebastian’s text for the past hour now. It’s three thirty in the afternoon and he’s still laying in bed, lazy, almost in a lethargic state. He doesn’t remember everything that happened at Scarlett’s party but he gets flashes of the balcony scene again and again, with slightly different versions each time.

He does remember babbling and making an ass out of himself, not exactly sure of the words he used, but pretty damn confident they weren’t that nice. He does remember feeling so light in his own body, his heart beating fast and echoing in his whole ribcage. The voices in his head not being helpful as he stepped over and surrounded Sebastian in the warmth of his muscled frame. He does remember how hard it was to resist him, the temptation of his red little lips parted and waiting. Inviting. Demanding. His smell, a fresh and sweet perfume, not too much, natural and loveable. That’s all he remembers for sure, he can’t picture the scene again, but the feeling is deep and vivid in his brain.

He stares at the text message a little longer, passing a hand over his face, scratching his beard.

A few days went by since that night, since Scarlett’s birthday party and Chris hasn’t been really productive during them. The first day he woke up at Scarlett’s place, spent the day with her, talking a lot about nothing, about everything. They ate dinner and Scarlett offered to have him spend another night at her place, the evening more cosy and chilled than the previous one, because she knows how much Chris needs someone to talk to. They watched a movie and ate ice cream until they eventually fell asleep on her couch.

The second day, Chris finally headed back at his place. Soon enough, he started to feel oppressed, an anxiety attack threatening, and the silence of the empty apartment too overwhelming to deal with. Anxiety won and Chris sent a copious number of texts, trying to find anything to occupy his mind. He found a party, went there, and came back late, hung-over.

The third day, he hadn’t seen it pass, sleeping during it all. Recovered, he woke up in the middle of the night and watched Netflix while eating what he could find in his fridge –leftovers of pastas and pizzas that were there for maybe too long but it didn’t really matter. That’s what he’s done for the majority of the night, catching up on a few shows. Early in the morning, he received a call from Hemsworth who invited him to a dinner with his family and Pratt’s later on, because it’s apparently been too long since the kids last saw him and they’ve been asking after ‘Uncle Evans’.

Can’t lie, won’t lie, it put on feeble smile on his face.

There was a time where the three of them were hanging together all day, everyday, until not so long ago actually. Good times. It’s not that Chris _isn’t_ happy for them, it’s that Chris is sad he can’t rejoice more for them. They’ve got all he desires, and he’s been stuck at the same place for years. Hasn’t moved an inch. Maybe even took a few steps back as he aged.

It’s been a while now, since his last real relationship, and with the total wreck he’s become, he’s starting to feel like he doesn’t deserve a happy ending. His friends’ happiness… They’re shining so bright it’s blinding him more than summer day‘s sunlight. Standing from the dark corner of his life, it’s like the more time he spends with them, the harder he gets with himself. As if he missed something, failed while they succeeded and left him behind; watched them moving forward.

He had a good night though, it was nice seeing the kids, and it was nice to spend some time around people who understands what Chris is going through and are still supportive of him, even if he doesn’t feel like he deserve such compassion. They always avoid specific topics when they’re all gathered together though, it’s easier. It makes Chris feels less like of an outcast, in the midst of their perfect families.

First when the kids are still up, they won’t mention anything that would make Chris sound like anything less than the ‘Super Uncle Evans’ they love. And he’s deeply thankful for that, to know they are still some tiny people around to whom he’s this superhero they can look up to and take as an example. Because that’s one of the things that helps him to get through it all. Day after day.

Then, when the kids are asleep, there’s this tacit rule that if Evans doesn’t bring the subject up on the table, they won’t talk about it. He decides whether or not they mention his love life, or his relation with alcohol. Another rule is that if any of them tells Chris it’s enough alcohol for the night, he doesn’t have the right to argue. It’s simple things, but that’s simple ideas like those ones that make each dinner they share go on in peaceful atmosphere. And Chris can be himself without worrying of being too much of a burden.

That night, it was Tom who discreetly moved his glass away while Chris was in the middle of a conversation with Pratt, maybe laughing a little too loud. He filled his glass with water as he winked and kindly smiled at him, mouth still full, chewing on the meal he cooked and put his glass back at its initial place. Without a word; just this friendly smile that quickly turned into laughter when his husband joined the conversation about this one night they all went skinny-dipping and they almost got arrested.

They did laugh a lot that night, and Chris really had a good time. He came home around one in the morning and lay on his bed for a moment; thinking too much until he fell asleep, most likely from exhaustion. So many things crashing and yelling in his head, self-loathing and mean thoughts, critics.

Why can’t he be happy? Why can’t he have what they do?

And now here he is, comfortable under his blankets, reading and rereading Sebastian’s text. Hesitating, unsure if he should seize the opportunity given to him. Does he really want to ask Sebastian out on a date? He sure does. Is it the smartest thing to so? Probably not. They did have a good feeling, and Chris gets a good vibe but Sebastian is way too young for him.

Or is Chris the one who’s too old?

Chris is the kind, or was the kind of guy who _could_ wake up next to someone without remembering how they ended up sharing the same bed, without remembering their name either. Sometimes it’d be a girl, sometimes it’d be a guy, Chris never really mind either. Sometimes It could be both; it happened a few times.

He’s always been this way, it just escalated quickly after both his best friends had their first child; the marriages Chris handled them pretty well, but the kids, he felt left out. They’ve always done everything together, and now they were experiencing probably the biggest event of their lives without him. Probably the one thing he desires the most in the world. Above all, above everything else, Chris has always desired a family, and he had to sit there and watch them reaching his only goal in life. Without him. Leaving him feeling like a failure.

There used to be a time where waking up next to strangers, or acquaintances, was happening few times a week, and then his friends stepped in and said ‘Chris, get your shit together.’ So now Chris tries is hardest to not be a massive disappointment to anyone anymore. It’s hard, can’t say he never failed, but he’s trying. He really is trying and he’s proud of the fact he resisted the temptation at Scarlett’s party.

Sebastian looks like the kind of guy who’s still dreaming of his prince charming coming along and picking him up on his white horse, the kind of guy hoping for an epic, romantic love story and who keeps getting disappointed in humanity man after man. At least that’s what Chris understood from all he heard in that garbage press. And he doesn’t want to be one of those men.

So no, Chris is no good for him. He’d just hurt him a little more, on purpose or not, he’d be one of those guy that’ll contribute in making him lose faith in love and mankind. He knows that, realizes it but he gets that feeling deep down that he’d miss something, that he’d regret it if he didn’t give it a chance. He has so many regrets already, doesn’t want to add another “what if” to his, already impressive, collection.

His fingers brush his screen a few times, typing words and erasing them, but he doesn’t read his text again before he sends it to Sebastian.

**_Are you available tonight? I know a nice restaurant, and no chance of meeting paparazzi there._ **

He hopes asking to meet him the same night isn’t too presumptuous. He hides his face under one of his pillows, the sound of the TV giving the illusion of not being totally alone in his loft and waits for a reply. Chris worries fast, almost gives up on hearing about Sebastian again after only five minutes, internally cursing that he should have answered earlier or shouldn’t have asked him on a date the same night, when his phone rings next to his face.

**_Sounds good, had nothing planned. Text me the address ?_ **

A haunted smile across his lips, Chris texts him back, adds an hour to their meeting, not to soon just in case, but not too late either. When Sebastian answers, agreeing, Chris takes a deep breathe and manages to find the energy to get out of bed, heading to the bathroom.

He stays under the hot stream of water until it cools down, washing all of his bad thought away. When he steps out and ties a towel around his waist, he’s starting to feel more and more anxious. His heart beating loud, feeling it all over his body, it even echoes in his wrists. All cleaned up, he doesn’t bother to shave, just puts some cream on his face and brushes his teeth.

He throws the towel on his bed, opens his wardrobe and looks for his favourite pair of jeans, opts for a basic shirt and a flattering sweater. He doesn’t know what else to wear; it’s been too long since he last took anyone on a date.

All dressed up, he walks back to the bathroom, wet towel in one hand, and steps into a puddle of water, socket first. He sighs, annoyed, take both socks off and put them into the laundry basket. He leaves the towel he was holding on the floor, to avoid stepping into the water again. He’ll wash it later.

Chris combs his long hair, adds gel to keep it in place, grabs his fragrance to wear some and goes back to his bed where he last saw his shoes. He sits on the mattress, put a new pair of socks on, laces his boots and crawls on the bed to reach his phone. And suddenly it hits him that _he’s_ considering it as a date, but he doesn’t know if Sebastian sees it this way too. Maybe it’s just a normal dinner for him. And he gets twice as more anxious. Should he have called it a date?

Turning the TV off, he takes one of his leather jackets, grab his car keys on the counter and leaves his apartment, feeling way more nervous than he was earlier. His stomach tightening and his throat getting drier and drier. He’s out of practice. Out of his element.

Usually it’d start at a party and it’d end in a bed, or against a wall, sooner than later. He’d skip the dating part. Each time. Not interested. But Sebastian interests him, stings his curiosity.

Chris is ten minutes early when he arrives at the corner of the street, he turns around to find a parking spot and once in front of the restaurant he pulls a cigarette out of his pocket, unsure if he should wait for Sebastian inside or outside. Luckily he doesn’t have to figure out a solution, Sebastian shows up while Chris takes a last drag on his cigarette, his jacket held in one arm.

“Hi,” Sebastian says, smiling as he walks up to him.

“Hi,” Chris whispers back, his eyes already looking attentively at the boy’s smiling face.

Handing Chris his jacket, Sebastian jokes, “haven’t forget it.”

Chris lets a quiet laugh escape his lips too. “Thanks,” he answers taking the jacket out off Sebastian’s hand, brushing his long, thin fingers as he does. Throwing his cigarette on the sidewalk Chris asks, “Shall we go inside?” nodding in the restaurant’s direction.

He holds the door for Sebastian, moving on the side to let him walk inside first, takes a deep breathe and follows right behind. They sit at the back of the room, face to face and the waiter hands them the menus. Sebastian’s reading his, looking for something that will please his stomach while Chris is tenderly looking at him. He already knows what he’ll order, knows the menu perfectly well for that matter, he comes here often, so he’d rather look at Sebastian instead.

He’s…. fairly good-looking, hell, _no_ , he’s _definitely_ a really handsome young man. He’s wearing an outrageous v-neck that makes Chris smile internally, he notices his necklace too, and the rings he still wears. He isn’t sure it’s the same ones than last time but Sebastian notices him staring and he looks up.

“Are you planning on murdering me?” The boy smiles widely, amused and adorable. His eyes stunning under the soft lights of the place, his lips deliciously pink. Beautiful, definitely beautiful.

“Hm?”

“First you invite me to some isolated restaurant, and then you stare at me. That’s what murderers do.”

Chris laughs to himself, hiding half of his face with his hand, but he guesses Sebastian can see the smile under it as he smiles too. Chris is leaning on the table, chin pressed into the palm of one of his hand, with his other hand caught between in his arm and his forearm. “You think I’d say yes if it was true?”

“Yeah, you’re right, you wouldn’t answer me... Should wait and see then, but I’m warning you, I can scream pretty loud.”

Chris shakes his head lightly, laughing a little louder; knuckles pressed against his mouth and Sebastian smiles brighter, looking back at the menu, so proud of himself. Chris chooses to not reply, leaving his innuendo lingering in the air. The waiter comes up to them and Chris orders his usual meal while Sebastian decides for a classy version of what’s only really pasta with salmon. Before they’re given their plates, the waiter brings water to the table along with the beer Chris ordered.

"You shouldn’t drink," Sebastian says, a shy smile across his lips, but Chris can feel the seriousness in his voice.

“Why that?” He asks back, gently but intrigued.

“Because you don’t like drunken kisses,” Sebastian replies without losing his smile.

He’s looking at Chris in the eyes, and Chris is trying to find something to answer to his insinuation. He knows damn well how to play this game, mastered at it years ago, but he stays unsure as if it’s a real good idea to play along. Sebastian’s already making lot of allusions and Chris can’t help but be slightly impressed that this little kid is actually such a clever boy and a naughty one. He’s carrying so much confidence it’s amazing him, but he stays a young, innocent boy to him.

He doesn’t say anything back, takes a whole minute to look at Sebastian who’s not looking away. Hesitating between going into an open conversation or stay on the tracks of a more or less subtle flirt. Chooses the second option. Funnier one. And he wonders how long he’ll have to wait before Sebastian starts biting his lips as innocent as the seductive little tease he is.

He doesn’t wait really long.

Diner is going well; they’re having their fair share of laugh, and Chris seizes the opportunity to ask questions that have been going through his mind for a long time.

“That’s not why I’m doing it,” Sebastian answers, “it’s for the fans. I like hearing what they think, being able to chat with them, I feel closer to them. I feel more human less superstar.”

Turns out that what Chris thought was egocentricity is in fact much more deeper than his first guess. Sebastian doesn’t own an gigantic ego, although he understood that the minute they met, it’s more the opposite actually, he’s beyond thankful. He tells Chris it’s helping him staying down to earth, that all the love and affection his fans are giving him, endless and incessant, their constant presence, their friendliness, their support; he’s so appreciative of it and still so amazed. If he spends a lot of time on social medias, interacting, responding to them it’s because it’s his way to be thankful – and he genuinely means every word of it.

“I don’t care about the medias, I know people will always spread rumours and find a way to say mean things, I don’t care about _them_ ,” Sebastian insists. He’s talking freely, Chris only listening to his flow of words. It looks like he’s been holding the speech for so long he can’t stop talking, but his tone is still sweet and kind, he’s not bitter, and Chris is drinking all of his words with absorption.

Chris understands better, understands his point of view, that sharing pieces of his personal life on twitter sounds like sending a text to a friend for Sebastian. That’s a cute way of seeing it when you remember Sebastian probably has more paparazzi on his ass than Chris does. He’s protecting his privacy by sharing parts of it and Chris never thought of seeing it through this angle. He suffered so much from the spotlights before that, it’s stupid to say, but he probably haven’t realised time has changed since he was first put under the said spotlights.

Sebastian seems really intelligent, and way more aware and manipulative of the medias than Chris thought. It’s a good thing, and now he comprehends his point of view better. Sebastian doesn’t like paparazzi either nor the garbage press, but he learnt to live with them in a calmer way than Chris is. They just have different reactions, as much as they have different reasons for them.

They’ve been sitting at the table for a couple hours at least, and Chris admits he’s craving a cigarette. Since they’re both done with their dessert, Chris pays the bill without thinking about it. It’s clearly a date after all, and despite everything said about him, Chris is a gentleman. They get up and Chris grabs his jacket as well as the one Sebastian brought him back, holds the door for him on their way out again.

Chris follows Sebastian to his car, his anxiousness all forgotten. Sebastian is still laughing, seems like it’s all he’s been doing all night, laughing and smiling, and it’s refreshing. He leans against the door of his car and Chris stands in front of him.

“Have you thought of another excuse?” He asks timidly, hesitation readable in his expression and it’s the most endearing thing Chris saw in a long time.

“Should I have?” He answers, careful.

“You tell me...”

He’s faking a smile this time, nervous, Chris can tell it’s not a real one; but Chris has this sad grin curved on his lips, internally struggling to do the right thing as well. Must take too long to answer because Sebastian looks away, loses his smile, suddenly looking all cheerless and Chris’ heart breaks a little. That’s when he knows for sure what the right thing to do is, he tilts his head slightly, trying to catch Sebastian’s eyes again, one hand reaching for his chin and he leans in closer, finally tasting the softness of his lips. He kisses him, sweetly.

“I don’t need an excuse,” he murmurs softly when he pulls away, and the boy smiles again, blushes, sincere and beautiful and maybe Chris will sing about it because it warms his heart in wonderful ways, “because it’s not a drunken kiss.”

He says it, and it’s true, he only drunk his beer and he doesn’t need an excuse anyway. He takes full responsibility on this kiss, and on what it might or might not involve. The only excuse he needs is that he wanted to. It’s enough of a reason. Want, desire.

Sebastian’s smile gives him chills and all he wants is for Sebastian to never lose it again. Knows too well what it feels like to lose the capacity of smiling sincerely for good and to lose the energy to fake one; once you do, smiles never taste the same way again, leaving this aftertaste of bitterness. Sebastian’s looking so innocent, and Chris gets this feeling deep down, feels it down to his bones, protective, all he wants is for Sebastian to smile.

He pulls at Chris’ jacket, and Chris follows, leans in close to press their lips together once more, his hand shifting to his neck. It’s delicate, subtle, the kiss, Chris’ hand warm against his skin. When he pulls back the second time, Sebastian shivers, adorable, and Chris trails his nose along Sebastian’s, looking deep in his eyes.

If Sebastian was anyone else, Chris would invite him over. A last drink, one that’d lead to his bed until sun rises and they’d fall asleep, but Chris doesn’t want that, as tempting as it sounds. So he reluctantly opens the door in Sebastian’s back, the light sound taking the younger one by surprise.

“Call me,” Chris says as he steps back, grasping at the top of door in his firm hand. Sebastian nods, blushes and steals a peck at Chris’ lips when he gets in the car. “Drive safe,” Chris adds slamming the door shut.

“You too,” Sebastian says by the opened window, “goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Chris repeats. He waits until Sebastian starts the engine to move away and go back to his own car.

 

 

* * * *

 

 

**Last night was really nice, thank you.**

The next morning, when Chris wakes up, he’s got a new text waiting for him, smiles tiredly reading it; somehow glad he didn’t dream all of the previous night. Because it sure was a wonderful one. He’s pleased they both had a great time, and relieved neither of them regrets it. He’s... happy, yeah, happy, that’s the word. Chris is happy. Blissful. He’d blush if he saw his face in a mirror right now. Unused.

Sebastian’s doing this thing to him, makes him wake up in a good mood, makes him shake his head because he’s feeling like a teenager all over again. Makes him read and read again that short text, those seven little words that means nothing and everything at the same time. Makes him want to work on a new song, throw himself into a mountain of sheet music. He laughs at the idea, haven’t written the beginning of anything in weeks. Maybe he could start calling that months now, because truthfully, he can’t remember the last time he sat down with his muse on his side, nor when he last hummed a melody that was stuck in his head for hours. Nope, Chris didn’t start working on a new song since months.

But he’s feeling good this morning and he replies to Sebastian’s text, sending another one to Jeremy to know when the rehearsal for the tour will begin. He’s feeling good and he can’t wait to start the tour and get back on stage, excitement and apprehension mixing perfectly. He can’t wait to feel alive again, because there’s no other place he feels like himself more than in front of a crowd chanting back what’s coming from his heart. That’s where he belongs, that’s what feels like home to him, the stage.

Chris is feeling good and he wanders in his loft, drinking coffee silently, humming an air that’s coming to life on its own. The more Chris hums it,  the greater it sounds and he can’t let it go, can’t let the melody evaporate, so he sits by his piano.

He spends a few hours there, all morning actually, scribbling words he can’t read again, fingers playing freely on his keyboard. He’s not looking for a new single, he’s just feeling the pleasure of having his mind quiet today. It hasn’t happen in a long time. When inspiration strikes, he’s the kind of guy that could skip eating or sleeping for too long just to work more, until his body says enough. Even then, it’s hard to stop working. Creation doesn’t have a schedule. It’s a pleasure though, not a burden.

He murmurs under his breath, lets his heart speak freely through the delicate touch of his fingers on the keyboard and the unusual shy smile that’s appeared on his face. He blushes once or twice as he feels himself smiling wider each time. A few words here and there, fitting the energy of the melody. Lyrics and lines, from his heart and his mind, sometimes meaning nothing and sometimes resonant in his heart. He sits there as a vessel for words, music living through him as an elusive muse, playing hide-and-seek, poking inspiration and toying with his imagination.

His entertainment is only interrupted by his exchange with Jeremy every once in a while, when he has to stop playing to reply to his manager –who’s still dazed to hear Chris is awake early. Chris didn’t tell him he’s playing music though, fears it might give him a heart-attack but jokes aside, he fears it might scares his inspiration away, make him lose it for good, so he keeps it to himself. A secret between him, his piano and the walls of his apartment.

Chris doesn’t stop mumbling along with the melody all morning, whispering a few words in an incomprehensible gibberish, when realises, suddenly, as his fingers hits the keyboard once more that he knows where the song is going. It was right in front of him, always has been, since he first heard the tune in his head when he woke up.

He’s thinking of Sebastian.

The song is about Sebastian.

He won’t admit it but he is thinking about him and this isn’t just a song. That’s a love song. That’s what it is. The lyrics, the melody… it’s a love song. It’s a song about hope, and love, and happiness and this isn’t Chris. His fingers stops playing and Chris’ smiles slowly fades away.

His phone buzzed on the piano five minutes ago and Chris –who was too busy to check his notifications- takes a deep breath before unlocking it, suddenly not feeling like playing the piano anymore. It’s only now he sees this text isn’t coming from his producer. Of course it’s not.

**_I was wondering if you had something planned tonight?_ **

This one is coming from Sebastian, and Chris stares at it. He stares for a long minute, silent. Heart beating faster and louder in his chest the longer he stares. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

Anxiousness striking again.

It’s not a tiny, little, idiotic crush he’s got on Sebastian. It’s not. Chris has never done that, writing about someone. He’s written love songs, a few, but they were never about a person he met, it’s always been scenarios in his head, or relationships he witnessed evolving around him, like the song he composed about Chris and Tom, but it was _never_ about someone _he_ cared about.

And that means he cares about Sebastian a little too much.

And that scares the hell out of him.

It frightens him, because Sebastian’s way too young and Chris is way out of practice. He can’t deny he isn’t dying to see him again though, because he really is, his heart pounding wildly in his chest makes it hard to lie about it. He could lie to anyone, but he can’t lie to himself.

Chris tries to convince himself he should answer that he’s got something planned already though, but he fails. _Lamentably_. Instead he sends him a quick text. Saying he doesn’t have anything planned, saying that if Sebastian doesn’t have anything to do either he can come over if he wants to. He fears a heart attack after he presses the send button, waiting for Sebastian to reply.

He does reply, accepts even, and Chris is somewhat relieved. As if Sebastian could have said no.

They chat through a few more texts, and Chris is expecting Sebastian later on that night at his place which, looking around him, he realizes needs to be cleaned up a little beforehand. They agreed on a movie night, it’s supposed to be a relaxed evening but Chris is everything _but_ relaxed. And Sebastian isn’t even there yet.

When he rings his doorbell, Chris is holding a cloth. He’s been lazy to clean earlier and finally decided his place was really too messy an hour or so before Sebastian arrived. Or maybe he was too busy panicking inside and felt too exhausted, so he tried to calm himself down by taking a shower and a nap and fell asleep longer than he intended –that’s probably closer to what happened.

He throws the cloth somewhere in the kitchen and opens the door to see Sebastian’s standing in the hallway, grinning.

“Come on in,” Chris says, half hidden behind the door.

As Sebastian steps inside, his eyes wander all around him, looking at the piano in the middle of the room, the guitar resting next to the window, looking at the huge painting above Chris’ bed.

“It’s…” Sebastian looks everywhere again before turning to face Chris, “not how I imagined your place,” he frowns.

“You mean that’s not rock’n’roll enough for you?” Chris teases.

It’s true though, it’s not really rock’n’roll. It’s a clear, classic New Yorker loft. The open kitchen is located next to the front door, with a counter to separate it from the rest of the room. Chris’ sleep space is near by, his king-size bed near a giant window where he usually sits and plays the guitar because New York makes everyone become a cliché version of themselves; but the tiny bench is comfortable in his defence. He left a few throw pillows along with a thick blanket there and it really is a nice place to sit when it’s raining or snowing outside.

“Maybe,” Sebastian jokes.

“Sorry to disappoint.” Chris smiles kindly at him, forces himself not to stare. It’s unfair how handsome he is. It’s unfair how attracted to him Chris is. And slowly the melody Chris was working on in the morning comes back to hit him in the face like a tsunami, leaving him breathless, broken inside, but he hides it, like he always hides everything.

This song was a stupid idea. Working on it was a stupid idea ; he should have left the melody alone.

“No that’s actually… quite like you.” Sebastian smiles at his turn, “I like it.”

Chris grabs Sebastian’s jacket, amused by his remark, puts it on the coat rack while Sebastian stands in the middle of the way, awkwardly. Chris notices and steps closer, one hand resting on Sebastian’s waist, he kisses his lips softly. It’s silent and gentle and when they part Sebastian looks down at his feet, trying to hide the fact he’s blushing which Chris finds absolutely adorable but doesn’t say a word about it. Gentleman, always a gentleman.

He’s screaming inside his head, trying to cover the song that’s playing on repeat. He doesn’t need to hear it now. Doesn’t want to. Just shut it down brain.

Then Chris invites him further inside, his hand finding Sebastian’s to lead him and Sebastian sits on the couch. Chris desperately tries to find the remote he left somewhere earlier when he was cleaning, eventually Sebastian helps him, teasing that the purpose of cleaning is to find your stuff more easily not the opposite.

Chris finds it in the kitchen, which makes no sense but makes Sebastian mocks him even more than he already was. He joins Sebastian on the couch, glancing at him and narrowing his eyes, defying him to say one more word. Sebastian laughs as Chris turns the TV on, and Chris smiles at the movie he falls on.

“Loved this movie when I was younger,” he says with a quiet chuckle.

It’s one Chris used to watch often. James and the Giant Peach. It’s a bit dark, with an odd sense of humour but he loves it, always did. Younger, Chris wished he was him, James, wished he could run away on a big adventure. Now, Chris has his own adventure, completely different, but it’s still a tiring and wonderful one. Would he trade them? Perhaps.

“I still love it.”

“You’re still young,” Chris remarks, teasing gently.

It’s natural, how Sebastian sneaks in his arms without Chris even noticing at first, and when he does, he wraps his arm around him. The melody continuing inside his head, but Chris fights it, focusing. The movie begun not so long ago and they apparently agree on watching it instead of renting one. Which is good, now Chris kinda wants to rewatch it.

It’s natural, how Chris strokes Sebastian’s arm, how he leaves a kiss on the top of his head.

It’s weird, how Chris forgets to worry and focuses on the movie instead of his noisy brain and this endless song. Sebastian’s head is resting on Chris’ chest, nestled in his neck, a leg caught between Chris’.

It’s weird how natural this feels; like it’s not the first time they’re doing it; like having Sebastian around, in his apartment, in his arms, is usual. Natural. No big deal. Like they’ve been dating for so long.

It’s already past nine, and they’re at least a half hour into the movie but Chris won’t lie, he’s desperate for food, craving something to eat. His stomach begging for attention loudly, he hasn’t eaten all day. Chris was too busy daydreaming and then panicking, he didn’t think of eating anything.

“Hungry?” Sebastian asks looking up at him, with his sweet voice and his charming smile, leaving a kiss on Chris’ jaw line.

“I’m starving,” Chris laughs.

“Shall we order now?”

While texting they did plan to order food but remained undecided on what to order. Hesitating between ordering pizza or Chinese, and finally settling down for pizza because Sebastian chooses, Chris takes his phone out. He calls one of the pizzeria numbers he has in his contact list –Sebastian finding it apparently funny to have a few of them in your contact list. He orders two of them, just in case they don’t have enough to eat, just in case they don’t like the same thing, just in case the night lasts longer.

_Just in case._

Pulling Sebastian back into his arms, they return to watching the movie, Chris amazed to realise he still remembers a few lines from it. Sebastian mocks him when he says the wrong line though, telling him he should feel ashamed of himself. Chris replies by saying he should respect his elders, which makes both of them laugh. Like the age gap is nothing but a number.

Which isn’t true; it’s more than a simple number.

A little later, Sebastian’s all curled up against Chris when the doorbell rings and Chris has to oblige himself to get up and pay the delivery person. Their position was too comfortable and he’s sure they won’t find it again, but the smell of the pizzas spreading through his apartment is a small compensation. He adds a generous tip, as always, and walks back to the couch.

“Here you go,” he says, putting the pizzas on the table.

He escapes a second, sneaking into the kitchen to grab a beer, offering one to Sebastian who declines the offer. Chris asks if he desires anything else instead, listing the only non-alcoholic beverages he can see. Which is… not much, he realises.

“Water is good.”

“Then water it is.”

Part of Chris finds it really funny, how Sebastian seems to never or almost never be drinking alcohol. That’s not quite a tendency in the business. At all. Maybe that’s because he doesn’t handle it easily, maybe he just doesn’t like the –many– tastes of it, but the other part of him thinks it adds to the whole adorable side of him. He’s mostly glad Sebastian isn’t like him; he won’t lie about that either.

When he comes back, Chris’ hand is quick to grab a slice of pizza, savouring it. He settles back in his initial position, lying back against the couch and Sebastian nestles against his body again. Chris told him to not wait for him but Sebastian did anyway.

Not long after, he sits up on the edge of couch and goes to grab another slice, the hot sauce falling on his fingers and on the floor.

“Shit,” Sebastian curses, licking at his fingers. “Fuck, sorry!”

“That’s okay, don’t worry ‘bout it,” Chris reassures him. His carpet has seen way worse in the past. Sebastian gets up on his feet, walks toward the kitchen hurriedly to pass his hand under the water. Chris follows right behind.

Sebastian’s washing his hands in the sink, and Chris finds a clean cloth to clean the stains on the carpet. He turns back to stare at Sebastian, clearly embarrassed, apologizing again, stuttering and blushing this time not for the same reasons than earlier. He doesn’t know why, but Chris can’t look away.

Maybe it’s his skinny jeans, fitting him in a flattering way, maybe it’s having him in his arms for too long, maybe it’s the way Sebastian’s eyes brightened all night whenever he looked at Chris. It could also be Chris who daydreamed for too long about Sebastian, singing about him or it’s Sebastian blushing, and tripping on his words and being utterly adorable and attractive. Maybe it’s all of that, maybe it’s something else, but Chris can’t look away.

There’s a weight pressing on his chest, and a heat boiling in his belly. He bites his lower lip, teeth brushing delicately and tongue wetting slightly, he stares a few more seconds before slowly walking closer. He puts down the cloth near-by, his hand carefully sliding on Sebastian’s hip, grabbing him by the waist to push him back against his chest gently and Sebastian lets him.

“It’s fine,” he murmurs in his neck.

His mouth falls on Sebastian’s shoulder, right at the edge of his shirt, pressing a kiss there; trying to reassure him with gentle gestures, failing to do it with words. Then two more, moving along his neck, calm and quiet, Sebastian’s head falling backward and resting against his chest, relaxing. Sebastian stop washing his hands and Chris’ fingers reach for the tap to turn the water off while still covering Sebastian’s sweet skin with his eager lips.

“I’m really sorry,” he repeats again.

‘It’s okay,’ Chris wants to say but the words gets stuck in his brain without a way out, he’s losing control of what’s happening, Sebastian’s smell too close to his nose and invading each and every one of his thoughts. Not helping, it even starts the melody inside his head again. This is not good. When he reaches his earlobe, Sebastian gasps, his ass pressing against Chris’ crotch, teasing and perfect and Chris struggles to maintain a steady breathing.

With an arm wrapped around his waist and the other one roaming above his shirt, Sebastian’s fingers moves on Chris’ cheek, turning his face to get an easier access to the lips he’s been feeling everywhere on his bare skin.

His lips are smoother than Chris remembered. He takes all of his time to taste them, explore and adore all of the details; Sebastian parting, opening them, inviting and Chris can only do the same, opening his mouth and closing it, catching Sebastian’s lips between his, one after the other.

Their breathing get louder, and Sebastian moans into his mouth when their tongue meet for the first time. Shy and sweet, unhurried. Chris’ whole body feels heavier, but his mind clears, empty and silent, the melody inaudible in the background, holding on Sebastian’s kiss. On his touch, his fingers soft on his cheek, moving up, running through his hair. Chris’ hand moves up too, slides underneath his shirt, feeling the touch of his skin against his fingers on every nerve ending.

There’s this flavour of tomato lingering on his tongue and Chris can’t help but lick inside, play with him as Sebastian’s fingers tightens their grip on his hair.

The kiss growing more passionate, Sebastian finally turns entirely in his arms, not leaving his hold on his mouth. Chris’ hand lands on his back, tracing the line drawn by his spine until he’s too far up and relieves Sebastian from his shirt. He doesn’t protest, Sebastian even helps, the shirt ending up on the counter where Chris’ forgotten cloth already lays.

His hands comes right back on Chris’ waist, desperately tugging at the fabric of his shirt to get a better grasp on it, lifting it until it flies across the room, a little ball abandoned on the floor. Chris is the one crashing their mouths together again, already missing the sensation of his lips warming his. Sebastian moans a second time, noisily, hands reaching for a hold everywhere he can touch, he settles for Chris’ neck. Strong and muscular under his thin, long fingers.

Chris’ hands falls on Sebastian’s thighs, grips firmly at them while Sebastian’s enfold his arms around him. Chris lifts him easily, feeling Sebastian’s legs enveloping his waist; he moves his hands a little, shifting from thighs to ass. He carries him in his arms through his apartment, Sebastian still kissing him fervently.

He needs to focus not to loose balance. Thankful to reach the bed, he lays Sebastian on it, careful and cautious, one hand staying on his chest while he kisses him lovingly.

It’s not long before Sebastian’s fingers works on his jeans, undoing his belt, his button, unzipping them. He hears him groaning, having difficulty to get rid off his own shoes and he smiles against his lips. Slowing everything down, he takes a long look at Sebastian under him, pushing a strand of hair out of his eye, he leans in, barely pressing their lips together.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” He asks quietly, leaving a soft kiss on his cheek. The last thing he wants is for Sebastian to regret his decision, or to feel obligated to do anything. In the rush of the moment, it might seem like a good idea, but Chris will give him an instant to think about it. Take a step back and understand what’s happening. It’s a question he asks, and if Sebastian tells him to stop, Chris wouldn’t even need to think about it for a second. He’d stop everything right away. He’s tempted to do it, now, without asking, but he’s too busy staring to maintain an argument with himself.

He takes the time to memorize the scene, print the vision forever in his head, because the boy is stunning. Eyes showing his excitement, his cheeks tainted in a gorgeous shade of red-pink, his lips attractive and welcoming, parted just enough. Chris takes a precise look on the perfection of the traits of his face. A jaw-line so perfect he must have sold his soul for it, and those eyes, swallowing him whole, captivating and entrancing, he carries the world inside them; a complete universe, seas and stars and undiscovered beauties.

Sebastian looks back, observing as much as he’s observed, lifting his head just enough to find Chris’ lips again and once they’re glued together, Chris melts in. Adorableness and softness washed away in a few seconds, he’s kissing back eagerly and feeling Sebastian’s fingers finishing the work they left off. Chris will take that as an answer.

‘Yes, _yes_ , keep going’

Soon enough, Sebastian manages to leave Chris in nothing more than his underwear, his fingers attempting to sneak under them, tentative and tempting but Chris has other ideas in mind. He abandons Sebastian’s mouth to find his way on his body again, his lips ghosting over his skin, his breathe, close and teasing, making Sebastian shivers.

He tenses, watching Chris’ mouth wandering above his nipples, his abdomen, leaving a kiss or two here and there, reaching his pants he does a quick job in removing them. Having Sebastian to his mercy, Chris trails his fingertips along his thighs, finding the fabric of a boxer brief obstructing a marvellous view, he checks with Sebastian first, before doing anything, looking up at him.

But he nods, and with his agreement, Chris slides his underwear along his thin legs. Leaving him naked and exposed, but so beautiful. Gorgeous, and Chris could wrote another hundreds songs about him. Thousands of them even. Now it doesn’t feel so ridiculous, because Sebastian would deserve each and every one of them. As silly as it sounds, he’s too beautiful to not scream his splendour from a rooftop.

God, Chris has seen loads of gorgeous people, slept with many of them but Sebastian, _Jesus_ , Sebastian’s got something. It’s in the way he lays there, finally relaxing, head falling back against the mattress, looking deep into his eyes as if Chris was holding the answer of something important. An crucial question, existential one. Chris hears him inhale deeply and he smiles lightly. Everything about him is perfection, every flaw is exactly where it needs to be and he could stare for hours.

Wants to.

But Chris chooses not to, kissing Sebastian’s inner thighs and every bit of flesh he can find around his erected cock instead. He mouths over a spot of his choice. Feeling Sebastian shuddering at the endless tease, Chris puts an end to his torment; his lips delicately landing on his sensitive skin; Sebastian reaches for his hand to hold, breathing loudly. He takes it easy, adoring and tender, gentle with him, delighted by the soft sounds escaping his mouth.

He plays with him as well after he left him a moment to get used to his presence between his legs, tongue wetting, licking and circling, and Sebastian squirms on the bed, his hold on his hand tightening. When Chris finally takes him inside his mouth, all wet and warm, eager, the moans gets outrageous; needy, alluring noises that get him even more excited. He isn’t trying to hold them back.

Chris slowly creates a rhythm, bobbing his head up and down, tongue still playing inside. As soon as Chris starts sucking, Sebastian grasps his wrist and Chris stops, glancing up at him, checking on him. His eyes are closed, and Chris waits. Regaled by the lovely picture of Sebastian, mouth open and then dragging his teeth along his lower lip.

Eventually Sebastian lets go of his wrist and Chris opts for teasing him just a little more. He goes back to gentle teases with one of his hand busy steadying Sebastian’s cock, holding it in the right position to make everything easier. Chris’ other hand slowly caresses the rest of his body; starting to learn the beauty of it, effortlessly. He starts from his knee, far up his thigh, finding his hip and scattering his fingers over his torso.

With another moan accompanied by another shiver from Sebastian, Chris reluctantly decides to stop, not wanting to push Sebastian too far yet. Chris is good at it, really good he’s been told. He presses a few kisses on his way up to his face, hipbones, chest, neck. When he reaches his level, Sebastian watches him intently, his hand moving to his cheek and his fingers moving to his neck, bringing him closer for a kiss.

Chris pulls away slowly, out of breath, opening his eyes again, his nose tickling Sebastian’s face. His lips brushes his cheek and he rolls away. Opening the second drawer of his nightstand, he grabs what he needs, the bottle of lube he leaves there and two or three condoms that were in his grasp before he crawls back to Sebastian’s side, letting everything fall on the bed besides him.

He’s looking at Chris, and Chris craves him. A touch, a kiss, a sound, anything. He sticks himself to his body and that’s all Sebastian waited before he presses their lips together again, much more timid this time, not deep or passionate and Chris melts into his charm; cute and attractive, calm but impatient. There’s no word to describe Sebastian and he loves that about him. His bashfulness and his magnetism.

He throws a hand on his back to find the lube. Opening it and pouring some in his hand, Chris’ fingers find their way back between Sebastian’s thighs. Kissing Sebastian all over, distracting him for more comfort when the cold, sticky substance enters in contact with his skin. He gets him used to it first, fingers wandering around his hole before he lets one of them slide gradually inside. He kisses his neck, bites it lightly, moves down to his collarbone and up to his mouth.

With a tiny, almost unnoticeable jerk of his hips Sebastian breathes between Chris’ lips, asking for more, biting at Chris’ bottom one lightly when he starts moving inside him. Irresistible. Sebastian’s hand runs through Chris’ hair again, expressing his pleasure with those hushed little sounds Chris swallows delectably. Hips starting roll lightly against the bed.

He adds a second finger, testing only at first and when Sebastian pulls at his hair, Chris gets the signal to stop teasing and start pleasing. He hasn’t forgotten about his underwear –that he feels way too much to his own judgment, but busy focusing on Sebastian, making it all about him, he didn’t think of doing anything about it. Until Sebastian suddenly seems to remember Chris isn’t sharing his nudity and leaves his hair to slide his hands under Chris’ boxers. Hurried and clumsy this time, he’s not hesitant but he’s having difficulty blindly undressing him. So Chris helps him, retracting his fingers and making Sebastian whine at the loss. Finally feeling free, pre-cum leaking down his length, he rolls on top of Sebastian.

Once above Sebastian’s face, putting all of his weight on his forearm, Chris’ fingers go back to their previous work. He leaves yet another kiss in Sebastian’s neck, nose trailing against his cheek until he’s back at eye level and he looks at Sebastian. Lips parted, beautiful; Chris’ fingers moving inside him. Sebastian returns his gaze, observes him.

Sebastian looks at him.

He looks at him, through him, inside him, all sweet and gorgeous and it says a lot. He tells a lot. Too much. He finds a way to make Chris understand a lot through just a look. And it gets kind of overwhelming. There’s trust and hope and love and care and affection and so much more in those two eyes. There’s heaven in them, cloud nine, and Chris’ whole world seems to be spinning only around him, around those two blue eyes, his centre of gravity.

Sebastian looks at him and Chris loses himself in his gaze. Unable to think, to worry, to breathe correctly. Until Sebastian reaches for his mouth to kiss and Chris closes his eyes. It’s like time stopped for a few seconds, only now starting again.

He looks for one of the condoms he left on the bed, absently. Hand wandering blindly. When he finds one, he sits up, Sebastian eventually leaving his lips to let Chris open and unroll it; he gasps at the touch of his neglected cock. Moving back on top of Sebastian, he takes the time to kiss him some more, feeling all of Sebastian’s fingers roaming over his back. They sink into it when Chris slides the tip of his cock inside him. Tight and hot, Chris can’t help the moan escaping his lips, his breath lingering on Sebastian’s neck.

Either it’s been way too long since last time Chris had real sex, with foreplays and real desire, indomitable lust, or Sebastian feels like heaven, probably both, but Chris bites at his lip forcefully when he gets deeper inside him. Mouth dropping open, he moans again before he’s fully inside, a long, pleasurable growl. He tries his hardest to keep his cursing internally, probably fails once or twice. Sebastian’s so tight Chris wonders if he should have extended the foreplay a little longer, but Sebastian doesn’t seem to mind or protest, he doesn’t wince of pain, doesn’t whine either.

He begins to move slowly, lips travelling from Sebastian’s jaw to his neck, to his mouth. Loving all the sensations coming to him at once. He’s moving back and forth, slowly moving out and moving back in faster. If it was only about him he’d go way quicker, wouldn’t last long but it wouldn’t matter considering how good it feels, but it’s not only about him and Sebastian’s fingers sinking deep in his skin is probably as alluring as the sounds coming from his mouth, so Chris tries his hardest to keep it this delectable to him.

Thrusting lazily, foreheads stuck together, the only thing Chris is able to focus on is how incredibly profound Sebastian’s eyes are right now, a blue so intense you can’t almost notice the shades of grey. There’s something in those eyes, he can’t quite describe it but they’re putting a spell on him. Every time he looks at them, he feels he can’t hide anything. Can’t lie. He feels vulnerable, an open book presented at him –all of his darkest secrets barely hidden underneath the surface. But what Chris sees in them right now is how defenceless Sebastian is in his arms. Exposed and offered to him, and Chris is gonna make him feel good, and treasured.

With a hand on his side, and Sebastian’s leg wrapped around him, Chris lets Sebastian roll on top of him, sitting up leisurely, tall and beautiful. Chris relaxes, dissolves into the mattress, watching. One hand pressing on Sebastian’s lower back and the other one resting on his thigh. He needs to touch him, feel him.

He follows Sebastian’s lazy movements, admiring his body, svelte and muscular, moving delightfully. Worships it. Trailing his fingertips slightly along his chest, skin smooth and delicate under his touch. He cradles his cheek into the palm of his hand, the other hand that was previously on his thigh moving to his back, he invites him to bend over; to lean on him and press their lips together. And it feels heaven all over again, Sebastian trembling in his embrace when his roaming fingers end on his butt. Tickling lovingly. His tongue dancing inside his mouth.

Sebastian’s arms sneaks under Chris’ shoulders as he moves his body with more dedication, tiny whimpers escaping his lips. Movements becoming barely coherent, difficult and hazardous as the time flies; moans increasing tone, Chris grasps at his waist with a firm hands, holding him close, thrusting with more intensity.

The angle feels too good to stop, and Sebastian gasps in jagged, needy breathings, lips caressing his neck, crying aloud; repeating Chris’ name a few times in a row, resonating in Chris’ cock as soon. Feeling himself on the edge Chris slows him down, hands wandering on Sebastian’s back, holding him still. Breathing, exhausted and on the edge of tears, too much stimulation, physically, emotionally.

Sebastian kisses him before sitting up again, impaling himself deep and Chris bites his lower lip. His fingers brushes Chris’ sweaty abdomen, electrifying, flesh raising under the lovable touch. He looks down at him, staring, eyes wet, red cheeks, no doubt Chris must look something close to this as well. He’s having trouble breathing, loud with his mouth widely open. Lustful and oh god, Chris only wants to make him scream his name. He wants those sinful lips moaning and begging his name so loud it’ll make the walls tremble.

And he catches Sebastian’s gaze once more, that youthful look that makes him reach for his thighs to stroke gently. Thumbs brushing his skin and finding a comfortable hold on his hips to grasp. Stars sparkling and shining, a whole burning fire crackling in his teary eyes.

He’ll make him scream his name, but not now. Right now isn’t the night for this, right now Chris and him are not just screwing around, they’re making love for the first time and he doesn’t want for Sebastian to scream. He just wants it to be good.

Sebastian’s not moving and it’s a real torture so Chris thrusts gently into him, once, twice, until he’s back at a slow rhythm again, feels like agonising and he fastens his speed. Desperate, Sebastian’s head falls backwards, breaking the eye contact; he swallows hard, letting his mouth dropping open once more. Still those exquisite little sounds, an adorable melody, short and enchanting filling the silence again and Chris can’t resist them.

"Aah– _AHHH_.. _Mmmh!_ " he moans loudly, biting deep into his lower lip, feeling Chris fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking him.

When Sebastian looks down, cheeks tainted in a lovely shade of red, a discreet tear rolling down his face, his mouth widely open, Chris can’t help but bite his lower lip too. He’s like a beautiful painting he wants to remember forever.

Sebastian’s fingers find Chris’ on his hips, while his other hand reaches for his collarbone, sliding alongside his neck. Chris’ mouth moves to reach the palm of it, kissing and Sebastian makes another loud, almost outrageous noise when Chris thrusts deep into him.

Chris grasps more firmly at his hip, his other hand still stroking but more dedicated, increasing both paces.

Sebastian bends over, rolling his hips, incessant noises of pleasure falling from his lips, an endearing and alluring tone to Chris’ ear. His forehead pressing against Chris’ chest, he’s panting, “Chris, Chris, oh god, keep going,” he repeats relentlessly, filling Chris’ ego a little more each time until this one sound, right in his ear, his body trembling, contracting, holding on Chris desperately, so much Chris barely focus on his own orgasm taking over him, “keep go _-aahh-”_

"Fuck," he sighs under his breath, unable to hold back. Panting. “ _Oh fuck_ ,” he repeats louder; Sebastian’s breathing close to his ear, covering his skin of goosebumps.

He falls on him with all of his weight, but still as light as a feather, and Chris tightens his hug, forearms encircling his tiny waist. Sebastian’s resting against his neck, quiet, trying to catch his breath.

"Okay?" Chris asks in a whisper as he turns his face to kisses Sebastian’s hair. The boy nods against his collarbone. One hand seizing his neck, drawing lazy, relaxing circles and the other wandering between his spine and his naked butt, Chris leaves another kiss on his forehead.

Sebastian looks up at him, eyes wet and sleepy. “That was just… really intense.”

Chris gives him a nod of agreement, one finger brushing his tear away. That, definitely, was intense. For both of them. He can see Sebastian’s exhaustion, and while he falls by his side, Chris keeps him close, more than half of his body still above his, one of his legs still caught between Chris’ and Sebastian’s head resting on his chest.

With his lips on his forehead, Chris falls asleep not long after Sebastian does. Making sure to throw a blanket over them and taking the condom off before, he brings him back into his arms as soon as he can.

When he wakes up, a few hours later, Sebastian’s still sound asleep. Cute and adorable. Nuzzling his face against his chest. Chris grasps at the blanket that almost fell off, covering them –Sebastian mostly- more than they already were to keep them warm.

During half an hour Chris observes him sleeping. Beautiful. Relaxed. He seems comfortable in his arms, unworried, while Chris worries himself sick over small and unimportant details. And then Sebastian slowly opens his eyes, leaving Chris with a tender smile growing on his lips. "Hey," he murmurs, "sleep well?"

“Hmhm,” Sebastian mumbles, closing his eyes back. He shivers and buries himself under the blanket until Chris can only see a small part of his face, nothing else, which he finds to be the cutest, most adorable thing he’s ever seen.

“You’re cold?”

“It’s freezing in your apartment,” he grumbles, lazily sticking himself closer to Chris’ heat.

“Sorry,” he apologises. With a strong hold on his body, Chris helps him, bringing him even nearer, resting his chin on top of his head.

Chris doesn’t mind the cold, people always tells him he’s a natural source of heat so he strokes Sebastian’s back, gently. The atmosphere, peaceful and quiet, slowly leads him to fall into a light sleep, not fully awake or aware, stuck in-between.

It’s an hour later that he opens his eyes again, Sebastian drawing random lines on his chest; he blinks, once or twice, eyes heavy. Sebastian notices his attention is focused on him, and he looks up with a playful smile. Letting his head rest against Chris’ muscular abdomen, he moves his body upside down with such facility it’s disconcerting, until he’s looking directly at Chris.

His innocence reflects in the sparks of his eyes; his messy, chaotic hair tickling Chris’ skin; he’s looking as beautiful as the night before. Chris’ fingers reach for his cheek, thumb brushing his lips, falling on his shoulder and following the magnificent curves of his waist, moving up to his hip, going farther on his thigh, stopping there. Hand open, palm hot and soft on his bare skin. Reassuring and protective.

And that’s all that happens. Them staring at each other, silent and naked under the blankets, fingers wandering, purposeless. Feeling, touching, adoring, loving.

Eventually Sebastian raises his head, finding his way to Chris’ lips to kiss. Bashful. Lips barely touching, and he pulls away, that smile on his lips, genuine and still so endearing. Chris watches, immobile, just the tip of his fingers haunting Sebastian’s thigh. The boy’s quiet but his eyes are screaming, loud and deafening, burning with love; he’s irresistible and Chris feels overwhelmed once again.

It’s just a look but there’s poetry inside it, a whole book about love and admiration and Chris can’t get over it. It’s always his eyes that says so much without words and makes him lose control of everything.

He moves quickly, catching Sebastian’s mouth and kisses him, needing affection. He’s craving his touch, hungry for any kind of feeling. He needs him, his hands, all over him, his eyes looking deep as if he couldn’t careless about Chris’ darkest secrets. Aching to hear the sound of his voice, his hushed, held back, pleased moans. He wants it all; bites at Sebastian’s bottom lip.

Chris is far gone, lost in his imagination when Sebastian breaks the kiss, one hand delicately pushing against his chest, holding Chris in place. He tries not to worry, but wonders what he’s done wrong. Thinking; too much; too fast. Sebastian’s staring and Chris’ mind goes wild in a second, his heart beating fast and hard inside.

Sebastian was maybe just catching his breath, maybe he just wanted to take a look at Chris’ blissful face and when his hand goes to caress his cheek, Chris grabs his wrist. Conscious of his gesture, fingers solid around his tiny wrist, Chris brings his palm to his cheek slowly. Sebastian’s staring like he can read through him, like there’s nothing Chris can hide and it frightens him suddenly.

It’s not cute anymore, it’s frightening, overwhelming, devastating. Sebastian’s eyes are like mirrors reflecting all the fears Chris has been trying hard to bury deep these past few years.

“What’s wrong?” Sebastian asks, apprehensive. His voice low and his eyes scrutinizing, probably wondering what mistake _he_ made.

Chris can’t find an answer, doesn’t understand what’s wrong himself. It just feels too much suddenly, Sebastian here with him, happy and beautiful and it feels like an illusion, or maybe it feels too real. He can’t decide. Wants to cry, wants to scream but feels empty inside. He stares back, numb. Yesterday it felt like a connection, right now it’s one of his biggest fears that’s awaking.

When you get too close to someone, you accept the chance they might leave you someday. Chris isn’t ready for this. _Not for this._

“Do you want me to leave?”

Chris hears the question, hears every word, feels every word; sharp knives hurting deeply. A six words question lingering in the air like a painful hammer blow right in his face. He doesn’t want Sebastian to leave his side, ever. That’s what’s frightening. He tries to breath, air getting stuck in his throat, dry and too tight, so he tries again. Fighting the panic rising in his chest.

“I’m not gonna throw you out,” he says and how he manages to find words to use baffles him, “I wanted you- _want_ you here.”

“But?”

Sebastian’s great at finding the right questions at the wrong time. But? But so many things. He wants Sebastian around, _but_ it’s starting to look like it’s more hurtful than anything else. Chris wants to protect him, cherish him _but_ all he can offer right now is a mess of a life: Late night parties, alcohol, probably a lung cancer developing inside him ; he’s not good for him. Not now. Couldn’t be able to live with himself if he was to break this spark of something he still can’t define exactly, that spark that illuminates his gaze, his whole face. That thing that make the whole damn room brighten with him when he smiles.

That spark that makes Chris’ heart pound wildly, makes him sing love songs first thing in the morning.

That spark that holds the power of making him smile genuinely.

“ _But_ I’ve got a shit ton of things to figure out before I can let someone in again. I’ve hurt too many people.” –And I can’t hurt you, _not you._

“And you’re afraid you might hurt me,” Sebastian says softly.

_Might_. Sebastian says it like there’s a doubt. There isn’t. It’s not uncertain, it’s what will happen if he keeps him close. It’s the simple truth in its purest state. That’s what happened in the past and the past will repeat itself. Chris is sure of it.

“I will,” Chris answers, without showing any emotion. Doesn’t even want to imagine it. He doesn’t want Sebastian out of his life, doesn’t think it’s possible anymore, he just can’t have him this close, doesn’t want him to get hurt. Doesn’t want him to receive a lost punch, to hurt his feelings because he was around when Chris needed space to deal with his noisy brain. He can’t hurt him.

“I can handle it.”

“You shouldn’t have to.”

“I’m not as fragile as you seem to think,” Sebastian says. He’s not accusing, simply saying, defending his opinion with such sweetness in his voice Chris almost want to smile. He doesn’t want Chris to leave him either.

“It’s not about you, it’s _for_ you,” he says back. Because it’s all for him, if they have to be together, Chris wants to offer the greatest version of himself, not this lost, wrecked soul.

Sebastian’s the first person in a long time to make him feel like life is worth living. To put a smile on his face. If they have to be together, Chris wants to be able to make Sebastian feel the way he makes him feel. Secured and loved. He doesn’t want him to be scared, scared he might get hurt, scared Chris might leave, cheat on him, might not give news, might end up in the hospital. Whatever happened in the past that could happen again.

Chris needs time. Time to heal, time to built an emotional armour.

“I know how to protect myself, I trusted people I shouldn’t have and I learnt from my mistak—”

“Then you should know better than to trust people like me,” Chris interrupts him, he can’t hear about Sebastian getting hurt right now, wouldn’t handle it well with the panic waving inside him. A gigantic storm rising. Just to think about it… He takes a deep breathe.

Sebastian stops, blinks, stays silent for what seems like a whole minute, watching, thinking, making Chris hates himself deeper and deeper before he speaks again. “You’re different,” he says, like it’s obvious. Like he thought he didn’t need to specify it for Chris to understand.

“Why?”

“Because you’re warning me,” he answers, honest. “You care whether you hurt me or not, _that’s_ the big difference and whether you like it or not, I trust you.”

It leaves Chris baffled, again, completely mystified by how Sebastian’s gathering every piece of him so fast and assembling them like an easy puzzle meanwhile Chris has been trying to do the same for years with only mid-success. How hard he’s trying to see the good in him, believing him, trusting him while he’s got no reason to.

“You don’t want a relationship right now, I get it, just don’t push me away for the wrong reasons.”

“It’s just, it’s…”

“It’s complicated.”

“It is.”

Sebastian understands, he really does, and there’s such a heavy weight on Chris’ body that evaporates in the air. Like that. Chris can’t find the right words to use and Sebastian finds them for him, it’s not an easy conversation and yet Sebastian is making it seem too natural. He might be that young little boy; inside he’s probably more mature Chris will ever be. He understands the situation and Chris is trying his best not to hurt him.

Sebastian’s smiling kindly and he moves up, so light, straddles Chris’ thighs and bends over to kiss his mouth. His naked body perfect above Chris’ one, he lets him kiss his lips, his hands on his bare skin, just laying there, abandoned, not moving, still confused about the conversation. He’s not responding to the kiss either at first, then his lips follow, participating. He melts in Sebastian’s softness, and he fingers starts to wander on his back, falls on his butt. Ghosting so light he feels Sebastian’s hair raising under his touch.

The excitation’s present, Chris can feel it against his chest, as clear as Sebastian can feel his. The kiss deepens, and Chris’ fingers wanders farther, finding the forgotten lube of last night somewhere above the blankets, wanders until he’s found a way to please Sebastian.

The boy’s moving up and down on his fingers, his hands grasping at Chris’ neck and shoulders, moaning in his mouth, sweet and hurried. Chris’ free hands shifts on his lower back, he sit up only to lay Sebastian on his back at the opposite of the bed. His fingers still moving in and out, he’s looking down at Sebastian, eyes closed and lips opened, tongue slipping out, wetting and teasing and Chris bites his own. The view’s dreamy, delicious and beautiful, almost unreal, Sebastian’s moaning and waving his body, asking and demanding. He doesn’t understand how they ended up like this so fast but he couldn’t care less. Sebastian’s breathing his name and that’s all that matters.

Chris can’t help but rush on his lips, needs to feel those sounds closer, swallow them down until he gets breathless.

Those sweet, soft little sounds escaping and filling Chris’ mouth as his hand is desperately looking for what he needs, searching without finding. Frustrating. He leaves Sebastian’s lips, goes down his neck, kissing, mouthing at his skin, moving to his chest, his eyes looking all around. Finally spotting a condom at the opposite of the bed he finds a way to catch it without leaving Sebastian’s side for too long.

He’s quick to unroll it, Sebastian’s hurried whines beneath him for background’s sound. He moves right back on top of him, spreading his legs open, laying between them, his mouth nuzzling his collarbone and he lets himself slide inside, slowly and gradually, breathing increasing with his pace.

Sebastian’s hands all over his back, his own hands roaming over his curves, grasping at his ass as he snaps his hips against it. Feels the tight heat surrounding him as thrust inside, groaning, bites his lower lip when he moves out, and in again. And one more time before Sebastian’s fingers grabs his face, press their mouths together forcefully, moaning loud and desperate, whimpering at the pleasing movements.

Chris slows down, tries to make it last, teases with lazy moves and venerates every bit of skin on Sebastian’s neck, probably leaving light hickeys that will dissipate in the day. Sebastian’s hips are raising from the bed, waving against Chris’, letting Chris grinning in his neck, keeping his leisure rhythm.

“Fuck, faster, _please go faster_ ,” Sebastian snaps his hips up one more time.

Chris obeys, moving way too fast to make it last as long as he’d wish, but Sebastian’s soft whines are so delicious to his ear he can’t mind. He finds that spot, that famous one that extract an obscene moan to Sebastian’s mouth, he hits it again and Sebastian’s fingers scratch his back, fingernails sinking and holding into it. He’ll probably get nice scars from it.

“I’m gonna, _I’m gonna_ -” he pants, Chris catches his earlobe between his teeth, biting slightly as he focus to reach his prostate at every thrust, and Sebastian loses it, begs, panting, “ _fuck_ , _oh fuck,_ _do that again!”_

Once again Chris does as told, as begged, and he feels Sebastian hot against his stomach as he release himself from his orgasm. It takes Chris a few more thrusts to find his own before Sebastian kisses his neck, sweet and agreeable; sucking his skin lightly, he’s sending chills up Chris’ spine.

Chris rests on the mattress, holding Sebastian in his arms for a moment, no word, no noise, just the silence and the birds chanting outside. It’s quiet and peaceful and Chris doesn’t even wonder how they ended up from discussing the fact nothing will happen between to have sex again anymore.

It just happened and it was good.

Suddenly there’s a ringtone breaking the silence and it’s not Chris’; Sebastian jumps out of his arms, finds his jean on the floor and picks up his phone as Chris watch him sitting at the edge of the bed, naked and gorgeous, his neck covered by his loving suctions. His spine is beautifully drawn on his back and Chris wants to trail his finger along the length of it so he does, lightly, lovingly.

When Sebastian hangs up he turns back, gets up on both feet and looks everywhere around him. Chris inspects the floor and finding Sebastian’s underwear near the nightstand he crawls on the bed to grab it, sending it in his direction. Sebastian puts on his jeans and catches Chris staring at him fondly, he crawls back on the bed, moving on his hands and knees to reach Chris’ level, wearing that little grin that makes Chris’ heart bounce in his chest.

Sebastian bends over to kiss him, it’s just a peck on the lips and when he moves his face away, he leans closer again for another one, the second peck turning into a chaste kiss and the chaste kiss turning into a real one. It last longer than intended and Sebastian finds himself straddling Chris’ body that’s wrapped under the sheets again. “I have to go,” he breathes with an endearing smile between kisses.

“Mhmh,” Chris nods as he keeps him close, a hand seizing the back of his neck.

“I really have to,” Sebastian complains, opening his mouth to let Chris in.

“Yeah,” he answers absently, his tongue finding his favourite partner for a delightful dance. Sebastian tries to pull away, blocking the access of the inside of his mouth but sticks to Chris’ lips each time he tries to free himself from his attraction, opening them, moaning and deepening the kiss again, licking at his tongue.

Chris is finally the one breaking it, quietly laughing. “If you don’t leave now, I’m gonna fuck you one more time.”

“Don’t say that,” Sebastian bites his lip, looking down at Chris’ chest, the white sheet is covering it but the stains of sperm are obviously sticking against it.

Sebastian smiles and Chris looks down as well, laughing. Sebastian scans his torso before looking intently at Chris’ neck; his fingers goes to brush a particular spot, his smile softens, seems more sincere.

“Gave me a hickey?”

Sebastian nods lightly, still looking at his masterpiece. Proud of it. “Small one,” he tells him. His fingers moves up to his cheek and he bends over to kiss Chris again.

Chris kisses back before he begins to laugh against his mouth. “Alright, go now,” he says as he slaps Sebastian’s ass gently. “I need to take a shower because of you.”

He wipes his chest with the sheet and finds his boxer briefs on the floor while Sebastian gathers his stuff and put on his shirt. Chris escorts him to the door and Sebastian tiptoes to steal a last kiss at his lips.

“This isn’t goodbye, isn’t it?” he asks, and for the first time Chris hears the fear in his voice.

“It’s not,” Chris answers after scrutinizing his face, “If you need me, you have my number,” he says, a hand on the doorknob. Sebastian smiles at him and Chris looks back tenderly. “Anytime,” he adds, just to make sure Sebastian knows before he walks away.

Anytime, he means it.

With Sebastian gone, Chris looks around to realise what a mess they’ve made of his night space. The bed is a sticky mess and he really needs to clean that up before he lays back down or he’ll never clean it up at all. And he’s definitely not going to sleep in those sheets in the state they’re in. But before that he needs a shower.

With Sebastian gone, Chris looks around and he takes a deep breathe. He might be on the right tracks to heal now, with a purpose, a goal and someone to hope for but this isn’t everything. Even if he likes Sebastian and his adorable face, he’s still too fragile to throw himself into a relationship; he needs to work on himself. It’s as much for him as it is to protect Sebastian.

With Sebastian gone, Chris realises he’s never been this scared of screwing up before.


	3. Baby, you are the song that’s written on my heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from The Fray's song "Wherever this goes".

They hook up three more times after that.

The first time is three weeks later, Chris goes to this bar with a few friends and he’s surprised to see Sebastian leaning on the counter, laughing loud and clear with friends of his own.

It feels like a punch right in the chest, breathing drowning in his lungs and getting stuck in his throat when he first lays his eyes on him. He’s radiant, smiling and gesturing widely as he speaks, and Chris grins endearingly. Sebastian is beautiful, _oh so beautiful_. Chris decides against coming up to him, doesn’t want to gate crash his party and interrupt anything, instead he sits at the back of the room with his own little group.

Chris had manage to convince his acolytes to join him for the night; Pratt and Hemsworth leaving their families at home to take part of Evans’ debauchery, it wouldn’t kill them to go out for once, he thought. Jeremy’s there too, he’s always there anyway, Chris doesn’t need to convince him. Usually it’s more Jeremy who programs a night out and tells Chris about it in the morning, or just warns him at the last minute. Chris has a handful more friends around him, creating a gigantic, chaotic mess at the back of the room where they argue and then agree on who’s buying the first drinks and trying –with a little difficulty, to remember what everyone wants.

During the evening, Chris allows himself to glance in Sebastian’s direction a few times, noticing that each time he’s either deep into his conversation or listening with a huge smile upon his lips. Must be a good night for him.

It’s way past midnight when everyone starts telling Chris they’re going home because “It’s getting late, bro.” They’re saying goodbye and reminding Chris, one by one, how lonely he’s become. Because it’s not late for him, not even a little. Night has just begun.

There are only three of his friends left when Chris walks up to he bar, just behind Sebastian, to order new drinks. As he chats with the barman, Sebastian turns to face him, a bright smile growing on his lips.

“Chris!”

“Hi,” he salutes back, an ounce of shyness hidden in his voice. He was maybe, or maybe not hoping Sebastian would notice him sooner or later. Unconsciously. Or not so much.

“Hiiiiii,” Sebastian echoes, voice full of life and joy procured by the alcohol floating in his veins. Sebastian’s staring with his magnificent blue and grey eyes, sparkling and deep at the same time and Chris marvels at them. Hints of green reminding him of two vast oceans he’d gladly drown into. What a sweet death would it be; looking right into the eyes of an angel. That must be how mermaids lured sailors away from their safe boat, a look, a stare, deep and enchanting. Just like the spell Sebastian’s putting on him right now.

After an awkward bunch of silent seconds, feeling more like minutes of intense staring, almost, let it be said, eye-fucking, Sebastian speaks again, the sound of his voice so enthralling. “What are you doing here?”

“Same as you, having a drink with a few friends,” Chris answers nodding in the direction of his said friends. Sebastian has this adorable smile, a little grin that could make ice melt faster than sunlight, but Chris melts at it first, grinning back. Whether it’s alcohol, Sebastian, or both of them, it’s a sweet drug delightfully destroying his brain cells and Chris would let it consume him whole if he could. The beatitude and peace Sebastian seems to always carry with him is nothing next to the beauty of his face when drunk. Parted red lips and rose tinted cheeks.

  
Someone’s talking to Sebastian but he doesn’t hurry to turn around and look back at the agitation, sharing Chris’ gaze a little longer, losing himself into it.

“Maybe we should go,” Chris overhears, helping combat the noise of the bar by reading the lips of Sebastian’s friend. He’s nodding toward the door but Chris doesn’t understand the rest of what’s being said.

Sebastian’s smile fades for a while, eventually glances back at Chris and says “Nah, I’m fine here.”

His friend looks one more time at the front door and back at Sebastian, bringing the glass in front of him to his lips. Meanwhile, Chris is standing awkwardly behind them, thinking about finding his buddies back and leave them alone as the bartender hands him his drinks but Sebastian faces him yet another time before he can make a step. He smiles and bites at his lower lip without probably noticing but it goes right to Chris’ spine.

“You’re drunk,” Chris says fondly before Sebastian can say a word.

“Not yet,” he argues, amused, and Chris doesn’t believe a word from it. “Are you?”

“Drunk?”

“Yeah.”

“Not yet,” Chris answers with the same tone Sebastian used, smiling. _He_ ’s not lying, he’s not drunk enough to be totally wasted but a couple more glass should do it. So far he’s feeling as if he’s enveloped in a blissful fog, his body and mind quiet and empty, clear of thoughts and pain and it feels good. That’s always the sweetest part, that’s always the one he remembers but which never last.

It’s a good feeling, but having Sebastian in front of him feels better.

 “Join us?”

Sebastian’s whisper is delicate and pure, a shy demand hardly audible, and Chris gets this electric shock up his spine once again, forbids himself from biting his lower lip; forbids himself from thinking ‘join us’ means in fact ‘join me’ and that ‘join me’ is slang for ‘kiss me’ because if he’d start thinking about it they’d both be done by the end of the night.

“Be right back,” he bends over to breathe in his ear. Just a little tease back.

Can’t hold it for too long, on his way to his table Chris is nibbling his lower lip, dreaming and free. He doesn’t need a full speech to convince his friends to follow him to where Sebastian is with own clique. Realising they can’t all fit at the counter, they move toward the closest table right in front of them and Chris _naturally_ sits next to Sebastian.

As naturally as his hand falls on his knee, as naturally as it shifts to his thigh as the night goes on. It’s as instinctive as Sebastian’s hand finding his and holding it. As unsurprising as Sebastian’s fingers caressing Chris’ arm up and down.

Sebastian’s drinking from his glass, laughing out loud and happy and Chris absorbs his energy. Feeling even more comfortable as he takes the last sip out of his drink. He was following the conversation, was participating even, exchanging thoughts about how fascinating space is with one of Sebastian’s friend –Chace if he remembers his name correctly. They’re all so young but Chris doesn’t feel like an outcast, because they don’t make him feel this way, they’re welcoming and nice and funny. He likes them but doesn’t want to wonder if they like him back; they seem to, but appearances, masks and lies, just key words in their world.

Anyway, he was talking about space and stars, about astronauts and the moon, rambling a lot about the moon and the eclipse that’s coming up next month and Sebastian’s drowning in his gaze, swallowing every word leaving his lips, so much Chris forgets about the conversation, forgets his inner little boy that dreamt of constellations during nights and nights and he falls deep in Sebastian’s eyes at his turn. They’re suddenly looking brighter than Chris remembers the stars to be; than he remembers the Milky Way he’s spent countless hours looking up at. His eyes are worth billions of sleepless stargazing nights and long rambles about interstellar beauties right now.

They’re in the corner of the room, at one of the two edges of the round table, hidden, discreet and the heat surrounding them makes Chris feels like he’s on a cloud; that and the alcohol running through his veins slowly reducing his awareness and memory. Stars don’t matter; the moon he can see any night, right now it’s Sebastian who has all of his attention. He’s watching attentively, intense and so focused on his face he’s doesn’t know how his hand nestles against his cheek, cupping his chin and perfectly sliding along his jaw. Can’t remember where and when he put down his drink, all he knows is he’s got one hand on Sebastian’s thigh, with his fingers laced with his, and the other one caressing his cheek, thumb softly stroking and he leans in close, connecting their lips in a sweet, smooth movement.

As soon as Chris closes his eyes, nothing else matters around them. Not the music, not the conversations, not that anyone could see them, not that he’s as hard as a rock and compressed in his jeans and it hurts in the most agreeable way. Not that he shouldn’t be kissing Sebastian, giving him hope and expectations. They had sex twice and it wasn’t meant to mean anything, but Chris never felt more alive than with Sebastian’s heartbeat echoing in his entire body, in his own heart.

He forgets to breathe, holds on Sebastian, lips opening and closing with ease. Shy at first, tongues trying to meet, touching and moving back inside, finding refuge; and then he teases, dancing around and licking, wet and hot; familiarly. Sebastian moans in his mouth delectably and it’s not helping his hardness to calm down.

Chris has this quick flash, nerves connecting in his brain and he remembers where they are, with whom, how impolite they’re being and he takes it upon himself to break the kiss, but not before enjoying a few more seconds of Sebastian’s delicious noises. He’s not sure how long the kiss lasted, maybe not as long as he thought, it felt like forever, but again, alcohol is a tricky companion and nobody around them seem to pay attention to them and their private little moment.

It feels suddenly weird to not have Sebastian as close as when they were kissing so he brings him closer, wraps him in his arms, still gentle and prudent and jumps right back into the conversation, not where he left off but the subject is just as interesting. Sebastian’s leg moves against his thigh and his arm slides along his chest to capture him in his embrace, his head nestling in his neck. He’s wrapping him in his shiny, loving aura, his bubble of happiness where everything is easy and natural, without a worry –and Chris feels good in it.

He’s got Sebastian against his chest and a new drink in hand and Sebastian takes a sip out of it while he strokes his cheek and leaves a kiss on it. It feels ordinary and simple. Too much maybe. He’s not following the entire discussion, his attention drawn to Sebastian smiling widely and laughing and so damn beautiful in his arms, but he hears some words and makes a few connection and the following subject makes him smile as bright as Sebastian.

“We should totally do it!” Sebastian exclaims himself, excited.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

That’s the greatest idea he’s heard in the past few month actually. A collaboration between Sebastian and his band, nobody would expect it, it could be one of Chris’ best professional experiences. If he thought Sebastian was a little jerk before he met him, he’s always been an admirer of his work. If he’s winning so many awards and has so many fans, it’s not for nothing, he’s got this powerful and sensible voice, he’s a talented composer and songwriter, and Chris has surprised himself more than once chanting along with the radio inside his car to Sebastian’s music.

One thing leads to another and for fear of forgetting the brilliant idea, Chris has his phone out ready to call Jeremy. He’s got the decency and the intelligence to look at the hour before he does and noticing it’s that time of the night where you can both say it’s really early and really late, he settles for a text message, trying to make as much sense as possible.

Sebastian looks as he presses send then looks up at his face, grinning adorably, rushing his lips to Chris’. Again it feels like a natural gesture, an act of love that Chris finds irresistible and he kisses back, his hand possessively but so lovingly grabbing his cheek once more. Soon enough Sebastian’s half sitting on his lap, both legs trapped between Chris’, and nobody seems to care. Again. Their little, personal bubble of affection. Just the two of them and the whole world aside.

The bar is still full of people, dancing and chatting loudly, and all of sudden everyone at the table is looking at Sebastian, it takes both of them a few seconds to understand why. It’s Sebastian’s latest single everyone is dancing on, Sebastian blushes, becomes full red and it’s endearing, Chris’ hand reaching for his neck as he hides his whole face inside his. He’s shaking his head against Chris’ collarbone, trying to be as tiny as possible in Chris’ huge frame, embarrassed, and Chris kisses his forehead before taking him by the hand and stand on both feet.

“C’mon,” he cheers, “let’s dance!”

Sebastian looks both petrified and amused, laughing and reaching for his nails to bite. Chris grabs his other hand, forbidding him to and pulls him up on his feet.

“C’mon!” He says again, leading him farther in the room until he finds the perfect spot.

They all left the table, and they’re all dancing together and Sebastian finally let the embarrassing mask fall, starting to dance with one of his friend. Chris watch, dancing on his own not far away and smile. When Sebastian looks in his direction, Chris doesn’t have the time to stop murmuring the lyrics before he notices. The boy moves up to him then and their hands slowly find their way on each other’s bodies, wandering along the curves they already know, already enjoyed. Exactly where they belong to.

Chris is holding Sebastian by the waist, both hands grasping at his hips, following the rhythm, following his lead. His movements, teasing and pleasant to watch, to feel against his chest, his crotch, his thighs. His lips find the delicious taste of Sebastian’s neck again, wet from sweat but no less delectable, skin smooth and soft. They wander, lost between his collarbone and his ear, sliding up and down, kissing, mouthing, breathing against it. Loving every millimetre.

The rest is blur, he remembers being back at the table, doesn’t remember how he walked back to it and after how long. He remembers holding another drink, doesn’t remember how he got it. He remembers Sebastian sitting on his lap, comfortable, resting on one thigh as both his legs are caught up between his own, but he doesn’t remember how they got into this position. He remembers Sebastian kissing his neck, biting and tempting, remembers the frustration, and remembers he would have fucked him on the couch, against the wall in the bathroom if he didn’t stop. He remembers telling him that. He remembers Sebastian whispering things in his ear but he doesn’t remember what words exactly. Remembers Sebastian licking at his ear and getting chills of it until he’s the one begging quietly at Sebastian’s innocent face to stop.

He gets glimpses of his friends saying goodbye and leaving, but none of him saying goodbye to the rest of the group – Sebastian’s friends. He remembers Sebastian taking him back to his place, remembers he tried to protest but he also remembers Sebastian pouting and desperately kissing him until he breaks –which wasn’t difficult to do, really; he also remembers that. He remembers the fresh air on his face when they stepped out, he remembers them making out in a narrow alley against the wall for long minutes, Sebastian rubbing himself against him, looking for a friction and moaning as Chris slid his hand down his pants, feeling him hard and hot against his palm.

He remembers it felt too much, and he could have fucked him against that wall too. He can’t be a hundred percent sure they didn’t because he does recall Sebastian’s face pressed against the same wall. But again, memory, alcohol, illusions –always a gigantic mess. He doesn’t remember any of the rest of the path, wouldn’t be able to find Sebastian’s apartment again, only remembers the decoration because of the following morning, even though he can’t recall much with the loud headache he got.

He remembers he lifted Sebastian on one of the tables, because it seemed like the easiest way to get him out of his clothes at the moment, somehow. He doesn’t remember how he lost his own, but recalls Sebastian throwing him onto his bed. He remembers the whole room was spinning but Sebastian felt like the only real thing he was touching. Remembers trailing his mouth along his neck, catching his chin between his lips, then his teeth, biting lightly. Honestly can’t remember any foreplay, he’s just praying he hadn’t gone at it like a rough brute.

Or maybe he did, at least for the rough part. He does recall the condom breaking, it was already nice they thought of using one but apparently they couldn’t have it all: being drunk, careful _and_ lucky. He gets a flashback of Sebastian whispering quietly between two obscene moans, something along the line of Chris not needing to worry about it because he does tests once in a while and there’s only been him since the last one. Which was actually kind of a romantic drunken conversation, a lot of kisses and cuddles and gentle movements and caresses, completely denoting with the rest, gauche and clumsy. He’s not certain he said the same thing back, but that’s the truth so he probably did.

He remembers Sebastian trying to sound sober and thoughtful but babbling half of his words, and he found that so endearing that he felt the need to wrap him in his arms before he started thrusting deep and hard again.

He doesn’t remember how long it lasted, but remembers thinking it lasted for hours, maybe too drunk, maybe too eager. Probably just too drunk to come. He can hear Sebastian’s orgasm in his ear again, can feel his body trembling uncontrollably and his mouth opening wide and lustful but he can’t remember his own. If he even had one? That’s a question he’s not sure he can answer.

The last thing he remembers before he fell asleep is falling alongside Sebastian, covered in sweat and laughing at Sebastian saying he’s glad he’s got thick walls.

And the following morning, which is in fact the middle of the afternoon, Chris’ ringtone wakes them up; both whining at the loud music filling the perfect and peaceful silence of the room.

It eventually stops and Sebastian sneaks in his arms, nuzzling his face and whining some more. It takes at least an half hour before Chris decides to open his eyes completely, watching at Sebastian asleep and softly snoring on his chest. He doesn’t care to move and gradually falls back in a half sleep until Sebastian lifts his head up.

“Hey,” Chris whispers as quietly as possible.

“Hi,” Sebastian echoes back, a tired smile across the lips. He blinks, once, twice, closing his eyes for good before wincing.

“Wanna throw up?” Chris asks, concerned.

Sebastian nods softly.

“Want some water?”

Sebastian shakes his head slowly. Stops. Jumps out of the bed and runs toward what Chris guesses is the bathroom.

Chris takes a deep breathe, and gathers the energy to get up from the bed, glad to find his boxer on his way. He makes a rapid detour by the kitchen to fill a glass of water and hears Sebastian purging his poor stomach in the toilet.

When he finds the bathroom (only mistaking the door once), he stands by the sink holding the glass for Sebastian who takes it but only takes a ridiculous sip out of it. Sebastian’s sitting on the floor, resting his head on the toilet bowl and he looks up to Chris. “Do you feel as miserable as I do but you’re just better at hiding it?”

“It comes with the practise,” Chris jokes, obtaining a small hurt chuckle in return.

“I think my stomach hates me…” Sebastian murmurs, not finding the force to articulate every word, “and my head too.”

Chris takes the glass out of his hand and puts it nearby; he sits on the cold floor behind Sebastian and takes him in his arms, petting his hair calmly as Sebastian falls against him. “You’re gonna feel better in a few days,” he mocks gently but he’s feeling as miserable inside, at least his head is screaming and insulting him whereas his stomach remains pretty calm which, knowing all of the mixes he’s done the previous night, is a true miracle.

“Not helping.”

Chris smiles, resting his head against the wall, he’s trying to appease Sebastian, drawing relaxing circles on his neck with his thumb. He’s been there so many times, and he’s glad he’s here with Sebastian. Being hangover and alone isn’t funny, at least Sebastian has him around today. For moral support.

Chris hesitates before asking, “first hangover?”

“Nah, but this one’s worst than any other.”

“Sorry.” Chris laughs internally at the memory of his first hangover, he was a total mess and way too young. But the night had been fun, and he’ll forever remember it, can’t forget the time he spent in the bathroom the following morning with his friends. He remembers he took a bath when he came back home, thinking it would help cover the odours, he fell asleep in it and his mom completely freaked out because she smelled the beer from the opposite of the house.

“Told you I didn’t handle alcohol well.”

“For someone who pretends to be drunk after two drinks, I think you’re handling it better than you think,” Chris tell him. “How many drink did you have last night? Six? Seven?”

“Four,” Sebastian confesses shamefully.

“Four?!”

“ _Yeah_.”

“How’s that poss— wait is that why I don’t remember where all of those drinks came from, they were yours?”

“They were mine,” Sebastian laughs quietly, nuzzling his face against Chris’ chest, apparently finding it as comfortable as a pillow.

Chris laughs more loudly, winces of pain as his head yells at him that it’s not funny at all. They spend a long time in the bathroom, Chris saying it can only do them some good to take a shower, he helps Sebastian on his feet and let his boxer fall at his ankles.

Sebastian sticks himself to Chris’ body, both arms wrapping him in an adorable, tiny hug and Chris keeps him close. They stand under the warm water for a moment, cuddling, Chris playing with Sebastian’s soaked hair. Small talks, Chris reassuring and caring.

When they step out, Chris wraps him in a gigantic towel and cuddles him some more. They migrate to the living room, finding a few clothes to put on and Sebastian lies on the couch as Chris cooks something for them to recover of their night out.

His phone ringing again, Chris finally decides to look it up, he’s got a bunch of missing calls, almost all coming from Jeremy. He’s got a few texts too and he suddenly remembers sending Jeremy one about this idea they had to sing together. He checks, that’s not a dream, he did send it. He sends a quick text to Jeremy back.

**_I’ll call you tomorrow._ **

Not wanting to share his time with Sebastian, he forgets about his phone, forgets about the world and focus on his pasta as Sebastian whines about the TV for being so loud and the screen so bright.

 

* * * *

 

The second time they hooked up is a less than a couple weeks later.

Chris has been talking to both his friends about the collaboration, and they both agreed right away that it was a really awesome idea. Pratt said he’s always admired Sebastian and it would be a real pleasure to work with him, Hemsworth wondered what went through Chris’ mind but agreed with Pratt. Both thrilled by this tremendous idea, but not as much as Jeremy.

Jeremy’s first reaction was to say he could have – _should have_ – thought about it before as he’s producing both of them, if it wasn’t for Chris’ hatred for the young generation and Chris laughed, partially embarrassed.

When Jeremy asked where the idea came from, he laughed again, fully embarrassed.

Chris made sure his two friends who stayed at the party with him and Sebastian’s friends two weeks before kept the secret for them, at least for now. And they’ve been lucky enough to not hear any thing about it on internet so far. (No gossips, no pictures, Chris checked a few times. Sebastian also said he’d tell him if he’d read something –not that Chris wouldn’t hear about it if it happened to be released in the press by himself. It’s so rare in nowadays that his phone would ring non-stop).

So he sort of made up a half lie, said after Jeremy left the party he met Sebastian –until then, it’s a half truth- and that they spent a few hours together and the idea just came up, and _that_ is a straight truth because he still can’t remember exactly how the subject came on. Let’s say he just played with the events and the words to fix the reality to his own tastes. He didn’t need to specify he spent the night in Sebastian’s bed as it’s not relevant to the subject, right? He told Sebastian about it, just in case Jeremy would ask, curious as he is, so they’d keep the same version. Never too careful.

It’s partly because Chris fears if Jeremy discovers _whatever_ they have going on between them and tells Scarlett about it, she’d come right away kicking his ass, because yes, Sebastian’s almost ten years younger, because she’d want to protect him and she’d be right to do so. Chris has a well-known past of heartbreaker and if he’s totally honest he saw Scarlett beyond pissed off twice and he still has nightmares about it. She can be frightening and he doesn’t need that now; he’s still trying to figure everything out, careful to manage Sebastian’s feelings on the way. He doesn’t need someone hovering on his shoulders to make sure everything goes well because that’s when everything will break into sharp pieces.

And technically, Sebastian and Chris have nothing going on between them…

No okay, _that_ ’s a flat out lie. There’s definitely something, there’s just no word for it. Or not yet.

They all came over to Chris’ place to talk about the project. They shared a nice diner, pizza and beer for everyone, Chris winking at Sebastian when he handed it to him. Remembering all too well holding him in his bathroom, frail and sick, tiny in his strong arms.

At some point the conversation drifted away and they ended up talking about their futures. _Existential Chrisis_ getting closer and closer to their world tour and Sebastian preparing a run of seven exceptional concerts in small, private concert halls over the course of two weeks. No more than two hundred people per night. In just a few weeks away from tonight.

The discussion remained mostly professional, but still agreeable, and when Hemsworth received a call from his husband the night slowly came to its end. He was the first one to leave because one of their kid is sick and Tom needs to leave to catch his plane for London. Pratt followed not long after, saying he’s really excited about the project and they should start working on it as soon as it’s possible.

Jeremy stayed a little longer though, drank another beer with Chris even as Sebastian declined the offer of another one. One’s enough for him. Chris teased him discreetly, keeping up his careful but obvious smile. One is definitely enough for him.

His smile, as obvious as Jeremy leaving before Sebastian does, and when Chris walks with him to the front door, he whispers calmly, “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but don’t hurt him, he’s a really sweet kid.”

Jeremy says it without a threat, but Chris feels it anyway. He feels it in his eyes staring at him, tiny little daggers menacing to cut his balls off if he does; feels it in his expression harder than usual, trying a bit to be intimidating and frightening. Which works perfectly fine, he has to admit.

Chris wants to ask how he’d figure it out, but the answer is evident: it’s Jeremy. He notices everything, probably understood the first night they met, at Scarlett’s birthday party, that something would happen between them –or sort of already happened.

Before the door closes, Chris steps into the hallway, holding Jeremy’s attention a little longer before starting to speak softly. “Don’t tell Scarly, please?”

“Don’t give me a reason to.”

Chris nods, unable to find the right words to answer. He knows it’s only to protect Sebastian; it just hurts to know it’s from him. To know even if Jeremy is one of his closest friends, he thinks he’s capable of hurting Sebastian, on purpose or not, and that hurts. It hurts to hear it from someone else than his inner voice.

When he walks back inside, Sebastian’s cleaning the table, smiling as he looks up at him and Chris’ heart skips a beat at the idea it could happen. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he was to hurt Sebastian.

Sebastian notices Chris staring in an unusual way and he jokes, “Gonna give me a hand or you just gonna stand there and watch me do all the dirty work?”

Chris grins, walks up closer to him and starts cleaning, throwing what he has to in the garbage and gathering the empty bottles all together. Sebastian finds himself in front of Chris, and naturally Chris can’t resist the view of his perfect back, his hand find its way to Sebastian’s hip, and slowly his lips to his neck and Sebastian melts, falls, light in his hold. His fingers reaching for Chris’ hair as Chris worships his skin, kissing, adoring. Enthralled by the smell of his perfume.

“You need to stop doing that,” Sebastian tells him.

“Mmhh, what,” he teases, trailing his lips until he reaches Sebastian’s ear, breathing close only to hear him inhaling abruptly and feel his body moving closer against his. “That?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian whispers, sweet, oh so sweetly.

“Why?” He hums moving back to his neck, alternating between mouthing and biting gently.

“Because I didn’t plan to end the night in your bed.”

Chris smiles, keep on teasing him some more with his hand leaving his hip. “Doesn’t have to end in my bed.” He hears Sebastian taking a deep breath when he moves closer to his ear again, “What about the couch?” He catches his earlobe between his teeth and Sebastian’s body moves backwards again. Pressing perfectly against his chest.

“It’s a comfortable couch.”

“It is,” Chris says with a grin, “the kitchen counter’s comfortable too…”

“I’m sure,” Sebastian answers before gasping at the feeling of Chris’ hand sneaking down his pants.

“So,” Chris’ tongue wet his lower lip, a quick move leading at him biting down at his lip when Sebastian’s ass presses against his growing erection, “which one will it be?”

Sebastian stutters before he can let the word out of his mouth correctly. “Couch.”

Chris doesn’t reply. His hand stops playing, stops teasing and resurface to unbutton his jeans, unzipping them until they fall on the floor. Sebastian shifts in place, kisses Chris’ lips as his fingers rush at his pants, feeling unfairly disadvantaged he takes off his shirt at the same. Chris starts walking toward the couch, freeing Sebastian from his own t-shirt as he gets rid off his shoes on the way.

With one hand on his lower back, Chris retains Sebastian in his fall on the couch, letting him hit it softly, back first. He moves on top of him, finding his place between his legs, his hand roaming on the length of his thighs. Chris nuzzling his collarbones and the hollow between them, right under his neck where he leaves a few kisses. He’s moving back and forth, his aching cock craving for attention, friction, something and Sebastian’s already moaning under him, demanding. 

And it doesn’t feel right. Couch is great, but it’s not as great as Chris’ bed. It’s not as comfortable, as intimate, as warm. Chris can’t properly take care of him on it and he wants to. Take care of him and love him and not just fuck him like this, as tempting as it is.

“What about we forget about the couch and I take you to my bed right now? How does that sound?”

“Sounds good,” Sebastian murmurs between his lips.

Chris rises from the couch, giving Sebastian his hand to grab. He pulls him on his feet and once standing up he lets him walk in front of him, his forearms wrapping him in a loveable hold, walking behind as his lips kiss the top of Sebastian’s shoulders.

Sebastian’s quietly giggling, Chris’ beard probably tickling him and he lets himself fall on the bed. Chris waits before he joins his side, seizing the hem of Sebastian’s underwear and looking in his direction for agreement before he removes them. Sparkling eyes answering for him. His perfect body exposed, just for the pleasure of Chris’ eyes before his lips can taste it. Sebastian squirms on the mattress and Chris smiles tenderly, “what’s wrong?”

“I’m cold,” he answers, finding Chris’ hand to tug at.

Chris forbids himself to laugh, Sebastian’s always cold, instead he maintains his smile on. He joins Sebastian, surround him with whole of his body. “Gonna warm you up,” he tells him as he presses a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“You’d better. Why is it always freezing in your apartment?”

“So I can have an excuse to hold you close.” Sebastian laughs at his cheesy joke and Chris liquefies in adoration. “C’mere,” he says, crawling under the blankets, making space for Sebastian to join him.

He snuggles against his body, kissing Chris’ jaw line, and Chris rolls on top of him, making sure they’re both tucked in and comfortable. “Better?”

“Could be better,” he mocks and Chris wiggles his eyebrows, making Sebastian laugh loudly. Marvellous sound to his avid ears, he’ll never get enough of hearing it. He’ll never get enough of him.

Chris starts kissing him, getting more passionate and invested in the kiss as the seconds pass. His fingers are wandering under the sheets, brushing and exploring lightly when Sebastian whispers against his mouth, “I want you,” sending chills all over Chris’ body, “right now,” he adds. “I want you, right now,” he repeats between two kisses.

Chris grabs the lube he always leaves in the same place without arguing and pours some in his hand, spreading it until his fingers are all slicked. He teases a little then, circling and playing, ghosting lightly around, driving Sebastian nuts until his hips jerks upward, desperately craving his presence inside. Then and only then, Chris slide a finger inside him, swallowing Sebastian’s moans with appreciation and pure delectation, so proud. He swallows a few more when he moves it faster, when he adds a second and teases with a third. Sebastian’s already panting and fucking himself and it’s a real delight to witness, Chris captivated by the show.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Sebastian whispers, biting his lower lip, “ _just fuck me_.”

Chris feels the words, feels the request absolutely everywhere. In every part of his body, especially in the heat boiling in his lower belly, his cock responding to the call. He pours more lube in his hand, slicks himself generously and finds the perfection position. Just an idea. He slowly puts Sebastian’s legs on his shoulders, letting them slide along until the back of his knees reaches his shoulders and he leans into a better angle so he can move inside gradually at the same time he can kiss Sebastian.

Sebastian’s eyes are closed, his lips parted indecently, moaning louder as Chris gets closer to fill him completely. Tiny, needy little sounds leaving his mouth at an impressive cadence, getting more frantic as Chris starts real movements. Moving out and thrusting back in at an irregular rhythm, only to tease and please.

Sebastian’s hand grasp at the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss, eager and enthusiastic, Chris complies, kisses back with his hips snapping hard and deep and slow and soft, and again, until Sebastian’s left panting under him. In need and abandoned to Chris’ sweet torment, begging for anything Chris might give him, sinking his head into the pillow.

So Chris installs a faster pace, his mouth hanging open above Sebastian’s without touching, sweat falling from his forehead. Sebastian’s hands fast on his back, groping and scratching, looking for something to hold onto. He can’t seem to find anything satisfying and aims for Chris’ lips instead, breathless. His mouth shifting from biting at his neck and shoulders to move back at his lips for a kiss.

Sebastian’s leg falls to the side a few times and Chris puts it back into place; he surrounds him in his embrace, tightening it until Sebastian feels so little, so small in his arms, gasping for air and panting and beautiful and _so gorgeous_. Sebastian bites Chris’ lower lip, moans obscenely and Chris is fond of every sound leaving his mouth. The bed is shaking now, Chris pounding into him. He’s unable to look away from Sebastian’s ecstatic face, his mouth rushing on his; his fingers seizing his jaw, kissing fervently, possessive. Oh, the words runs through his head at this exact moment.

Eventually Chris lets Sebastian’s legs fall free on the bed, but not for long. Sebastian wrap them around his waist, leaves his mouth to cry aloud, screaming his pleasure right in Chris’ ear, incessant and restless. “ _Fuck,_ _fuck,_ _fuck, fuck,”_ hips attempting to follow Chris’ rhythm. “ _Oh god fuCK, FUCK, DON’T STOP, DON’T FUCKING STOP!”_

He’s begging, imploring, his voice wrecking, innocent and sweet and Chris can’t handle all of his supplications said with such cuteness. He keeps moving fast, he can feel himself so close he already knows he won’t last more than a few more seconds but he keeps moving at the same rhythm. He thrusts with vigour and Sebastian grasps his neck with strength. As Chris release himself from his orgasm he keeps going, hips moving rapid and deep, his forehead sticking to Sebastian’s, waiting and watching, so delighted. Completely charmed. He watches the tears escaping his eyes and his teeth sinking in his lip, senses his fingernails through his skin and feels him hot and wet on his chest, and loud and clear in his ears. His name praised and cheered.

Chris rushes on his lips to kiss, lost and passionate, to soften and quiet down, Sebastian trembling in his arms. He holds him tight, locks him in his arms, secure and massive as Sebastian never felt any tinier against him, panting, pure bliss painted on his face.

He did say before he wanted to make Sebastian scream his name, and now that he has him out of breath and so small in his arms, it’s exactly what he was hoping for, except only better because it overwhelms him just as much.

The vision, the touch, the sounds, Chris’ heart beating fast and loud resonating in his ribcage, Sebastian breathing heavily and licking his lips. Chris’ head falls forward, sticking their forehead together but Sebastian doesn’t open his eyes. Chris’ fingers ghosts over his face, lingering in the air, fingertips brushing ever so lightly across his cheeks and Sebastian shivers, whines silently.

“Shh,” Chris whispers so low there’s only air escaping his lips, not a single sound.

Chris tries to move, wants to, only to find a better way to hold him but Sebastian stops him, keep his hips steady in a firm grasp. “Don’t move,” he says. “Not yet,” he implores him.

So Chris trails his nose against Sebastian’s cheek, against his jaw, tender, press a kiss near his ear. He doesn’t know why it’s so intense with Sebastian, why it always seems to be so passionate between them, but it’s perfection. It’s pure ecstasy and he feels guilty for enjoying it as much, feels awful because he could do it again. Now, tomorrow, the following day and the following week. He could do it again all night long, and for months. Years. He wouldn’t mind, not just the sex, but just having Sebastian around. Having him in his arms, like this, eyes closed, worn out; stunning.

Because he likes it.

Loves it.

Because Sebastian’s so young and full of life and he hasn’t give up on happiness yet, living his dreams in colour and Chris sees the world in a drab shade of black. Tired and exhausted. His moans are the loveliest melody he’s heard in a long time, carrying delight and enchantment and he could listen to this love song on repeat without getting enough of it.

Chris feels Sebastian’s long and thin fingers of virtuosi finally relaxing on his hips to scatter on his back, ending their slow, lazy race on the back of his neck, pressuring nicely. His mouth suspended above Sebastian’s, he reduce the space between them, lips attracted by an unresisting spell.

He kisses and cuddles him, Sebastian letting him move out of him eventually, when Chris does, he does it slowly and carefully. He takes his time to rest on the bed, vigilant to not leave Sebastian’s mouth and side. He still hasn’t opened his eyes yet and Chris thinks he won’t open them until the morning light and he’s okay with that. He brings him into his arms, making him feel safe and protected. When Sebastian barely responds to the kiss anymore Chris breaks it, hands stroking his back, until he falls asleep as well.

When he next opens his eyes, Chris is alone in the bed, his heart pinching at the view. He takes a few seconds to realise, his hand searching for a heat, a presence; he can’t find one so he reaches for his eyes to rub instead. Pressing hard on his eyelids, moving from the exterior to the interior of his face until he begins to see colourful spots; little stars from his imagination.

He blinks a few times to let them disappear and notices a sound, a familiar one. He looks around to see Sebastian sitting next to his huge window, sitting on the little, comfortable bench Chris likes so much. It’s like a damn romantic movie, morning sunlight adorably lightening him, beautiful as always. The shadow of his nose across his cheek, Chris’ guitar on his lap.

He’s playing softly, probably didn’t want to wake Chris up. The soft chords hardly coming to his ears, Chris sits up, leaning back against the pillow.

Sebastian looks in his direction, smiling. He doesn’t say a word, radiant and silent. He plays a little louder, plays freely, fingers playing with the strings with Chris as his only audience.

Chris watches, observes, grins and melts inside when he hears Sebastian’s voice humming a few words over a made-up melody. Smiles wider when Sebastian does, laughing at his invented song, his choice of words. Visibly embarrassed to have Chris’ attention on him but still adorable. The lyrics echoes with the wonderful harmony for background, Sebastian makes it seem effortless. Makes it seem so easy to come up with a refrain, with rhyming words, meaningful sentences.

Chris sings along softly, repeating a chorus of the words he hears, feels, not losing Sebastian from sight. Both of his hands toying with his guitar like it’s an extent of his body, it all looks so perfect; Sebastian makes the moment perfect. He’s looking by the window, shy, glancing at Chris here and there, smiling at the sound of Chris’ voice joining his.

It lasts, a moment, when Chris doesn’t sing back, he listens and watches, marvels. Sebastian hums and chants, pinches the strings and caress them delicately, producing sweet sounds to Chris’ ears. He feels lucky, and blessed, being there, assisting, witnessing, Sebastian in all his splendour.

The countless time award winner, America’s sweetheart, Scarlett’s little protégé, shaped beautifully by the morning sunlight and playing the guitar softly. Just for him. Singing, sweet and delightful, naked and magnificent and Chris’ world stops. His noisy mind stops, his heart stops, everything does; everything feels right into place, real and authentic, it’s pure perfection, indescribable bliss.

Like each time he finds himself with Sebastian.

Sebastian eventually stops playing, catches Chris’ gaze again and leaves the guitar against the window. He walks up the bed, and Chris notices only now he’s wearing _his_ underwear. By mistake or not. He joins him, Chris lifting the blankets so Sebastian can sneak under them and find his place against him, snuggling and cuddling, adorably.

Chris is breathing through his hair, doesn’t mind them tickling his nose, doesn’t mind them getting caught in his beard. That’s another thing he could do for the next few years, just cuddling Sebastian for hours because he loves the sensation it procures him. Peace. Internal peace.

“I had this music stuck in my head all morning; I needed to get it out. Sorry I wasn’t in the bed next to you when you woke up,” Sebastian says fingers now playing with Chris’ chest hair. Chris smiles, kisses the top of his head, petting Sebastian’s hair lovingly. He breathes deep, trying to quiet the voices in his head saying words he refuses to let out.

They lay in the bed for the majority of the day, not doing anything specific, just a lot of hugs and affection, and a lot of music, the guitar joining them on the bed at some point. Sebastian’s sitting farther away on the bed, not as close to Chris as Chris would like, so he remedies this, his chest pressing against Sebastian’s back and his chin resting on his shoulder, leaving a kiss, finding balance on one of his hand as the other wanders up and down Sebastian’s side.

He finds himself at his back, kissing at his neck, sweet and tender, lips brushing Sebastian’s ear and nestling where it fits the better. Chris allows himself to close his eyes, losing himself in the music filling the room, losing himself in the perfection of the moment, the peacefulness, the serenity, too. Focusing on Sebastian’s angelic voice and skilled fingers. His private concert.

Still can’t help but hum along, sing with him, follow his lead, lyrics coming to life on their own, fitting the song and the melody. There’s a message hidden inside it that Chris refuses to listen to, he hears it but doesn’t listen to it. Doesn’t want to. Just like he doesn’t want to listen to that little voice inside him. Sebastian’s opening his heart and pouring his soul into every chord, but Chris refuses to see it as more than what it looks like : a simple song. Stubborn and scared. Just a few lines said out loud without a defined goal but to entertain.

But it’s not just a song, and it’s far from simple. It carries a whole message, but Chris can’t find the courage to read between the lines. If he did, Sebastian would never leave his side ever again. Couldn’t let him leave. So he pretends, lies to himself for as long as he can, but enjoys it until the very last moment. Until they’re pulled back into the reality and the business, until one phone rings and vibrates on the floor, until they ignore it for too long and it’s ringing for the eighth time. Until they realise both phones have notifications, and unread texts and missing calls.

It’s almost like the world kept spinning without them noticing. Like life kept going, normal and usual while they were stuck on their little piece of heaven, quiet and ideal.

 

* * * *

 

The third time they have sex comes almost two months after that morning.

Chris admits he avoided one-on-one time with Sebastian. Couldn’t quite handle it correctly without wanting to kiss him, without his hands wanting to touch and feel, grope and grasp. Without wanting to hold him close and never let him go. Without fighting the words until he got headaches from repeating them incessantly, refusing to let them out.

They’ve been working hard on the collaboration, dedicated and enthusiastic. All of them, Jeremy included. Sometimes they’d even work day and night, and even then, Chris avoids Sebastian as much as possible. And it isn’t an easy thing to do when his first instinct when he sees that cute, sleepy face showing up at the recording session is to pull him into a protective hug and kiss his drowsy face.

Not easy either to hear his voice clear and loud in the room, being reminded of their private session a few weeks before. Being reminded of that night and the others, and all of the sounds Chris heard from his opened lips. Privileged. Honoured. Lucky and grateful.

Of course Sebastian didn’t understand at first when Chris was always too busy for a last drink, didn’t understand why Chris would be quick to leave the studio after they’ve been done for the day. He didn’t understand why Chris wouldn’t sit next to him by fear of letting his hand fall on his lap. He didn’t but he never said a thing, he tried to obtain a reaction, to see what he could do, if he did anything wrong.

But Chris knows he didn’t forget the first conversation they had, and the following ones where he opened himself, where he told Sebastian he wasn’t the one for him, he’d hurt him, that he wasn’t ready for a relationship. He’s still not ready, but damn he really misses Sebastian’s heat and presence. He misses seeing his smile and hearing his laugh, and neither feel the same anymore. He feels like a simple friend and deep down he hates it.

Sebastian laughing at Pratt’s joke isn’t the same laugh Chris heard on their first and only date. It’s not a flustered giggle, it’s not him causing it and Chris gets that pinch in his heart, bitterly laughing at his pathetic nostalgia and jealousy. They didn’t break up because they weren’t together, but Chris gets that same feeling inside than seeing his exes dating someone else for the first time. Except it’s worse with Sebastian.

He can only fight himself though, because he’s the one refusing, stubbornly, to have what he desires. So he lets it go, pretends he doesn’t care that Sebastian is cracking up because of Hemsworth. Pretends he doesn’t care Sebastian is widely smiling at the picture of Hemsworth kids, definitely pretends he absolutely does not imagining himself with Sebastian and a bunch of kids. He lies to himself openly, and to every one around him.

Except he can fool everyone around him, but he’ll never be able to fool himself forever.

And ultimately, one day he breaks. One day is one too much, and he just can’t stand there, with Sebastian looking and smiling shyly at him while he’s recording his voice. Sebastian doesn’t have a reason requiring him to be around at the studio that day, because all of his recording is done, he’s only there to hang with everyone, and Chris hopes, with him.

Chris is singing through the microphone, headphones covering his ears, glancing between the lyrics he knows more than perfectly and Sebastian behind the glass in front of him, staring. He doesn’t know how he manages to finish the session with only one or two crappy and unfocused takes, but he does and when he leaves the room he stands next to Sebastian who’s sitting on the edge of the comfortable couch.

He hesitates a second only before his hand rests on his lower back, Sebastian doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move, but definitely notices and doesn’t protest. Maybe he didn’t fuck it all up yet, so his hands start to move higher, still discreet, stroking lightly.

And when everyone gathers their stuff to leave, Chris does the same but makes sure to stay close to Sebastian.

“Wanna grab a drink?” he asks, softly enough that no one can overhear.

Sebastian looks at him, blinks, “why not.”

And they end up at a bar nearby, both of them ordering a beer and having small talk and it doesn’t feel right. Feels awkward and unnatural and even though Sebastian did order a beer to join Chris, he didn’t even hold it in his hand yet, it’s still sitting on the table. Chris tries to not focus on it too much, but can’t help and see a message in it.

First, he was expecting him to order a soda and then when he chose a beer maybe he only wanted to find courage in it.

Sebastian is polite, and laughing and cute and funny, like he always is, but _it doesn’t feel right,_ and Chris can’t wrap his mind around why. It feels like it’s obvious, like he should notice and understand but he doesn’t, and it’s getting him anxious and nervous. Maybe he actually did fuck everything up.

Or maybe not, because Sebastian’s still laughing, that adorable flustered giggle, and he’s glancing at him with this endearing grin and that lustful gaze and he starts toying with his beer, blushing and pretty, so Chris laughs back. He already doesn’t remember what stupid thing he just said to make Sebastian laughs, but the fact he did makes him proud and happy and he laughs along.

That’s when Chris’ fingers brush Sebastian’s, not even on purpose, and when Sebastian pulls his hand away as soon as it happens that Chris finally understands why everything looks and feels so wrong. Sebastian is _not_ acting as usual. His face falls; he looks away and hides his hand under the table.

“What’s wrong?” Chris dares to ask, perfectly knowing the answer. But he needs to hear it from Sebastian, needs to hear the words leaving his mouth for it to become real. Sebastian thinks for a while so Chris adds a little, “tell me,” going mute, unable to add a please.

“It’s just…” Sebastian starts, and Chris is ready to beg for him to just say it, to make it quick. “I know I told you I was okay with this, with whatever we have, but I’m…” he pauses, then breathes, “I’m not.”

There, now he heard it. He did fuck everything up. He did just get a punch in the stomach that makes him feel knocked out on the floor. Sebastian refuses to look at him now and keeps talking while Chris’ heart starts pounding against his chest. “I’m sorry, I just can’t keep doing it,” he hears him say over the loud chaos of everything tumbling down inside him.

“No, don’t apologise,” Chris pulls out the greatest of his masks, indifference. “I understand.”

He does, he really does, he saw it coming, can’t say he didn’t get the warning when Sebastian stopped asking to see him. He screwed up, everything, he knows. He was hoping but he knows. He couldn’t expect Sebastian to wait for him forever, to be okay with the little they have. They don’t even have anything determined. He’s not even sure they have the same vision of it, so he can’t be mad. He knew, knows it couldn’t last.

“We can still stay friends, right?” Sebastian asks, fear palpable in his voice.

“Of course,” Chris smiles, swallowing down his pain.

Another of his famous fake smiles, but this one taste sour on his lips, heavy. One of the hardest he’s ever given, but he holds it long enough, makes the trick. Pretends it’s all fine, all good and that he’ll be okay. That he won’t grab the full bottle of vodka that’s been lying, hidden in his kitchen because he took that bet with himself he could have alcohol home without drinking it for a month. Not one sip out of the bottle for a full month, now he’s pretty sure it’d be empty by tomorrow.

They keep going with the conversation, act as if they weren’t both feeling weird. Play the lying game, and they leave the bar less than an hour after they came in. They’re on the sidewalk and it’s late, night bright in the sky, standing awkwardly. Neither of them wants to say goodbye, so they don’t. Chris follows Sebastian as they keep talking about a few things, their common project mostly, but also their upcoming personal ones. It’s pretending, they don’t care about the conversation at this point, it’s just hard to leave each other’s side.

Can’t say goodbye.

Soon they’re in front of Sebastian’s building and now they have to separate. Chris takes it on himself to say goodbye first, expects to hear it back, that or another politely way to say “stay safe” or “I’ll see you around,” but instead he doesn’t hear a word from Sebastian. He nods, can’t be mad at Sebastian for not knowing how to react right now. He’s not sure he knows either.

He turns around, ready to walk back home when a hand grabs his, forcing him to turn back again. He finds two lips against his before he understand it’s Sebastian’s. Sebastian _is_ kissing him. It’s not distressed, nor rough, it’s simple and innocent and sweet. Just like him.

“I thought you said friends,” Chris whispers parting away slightly, eyes closed and desperately wanting to feel the taste of his lips again. He’s just giving Sebastian a chance to realise his mistake. Because that’s what it is, a mistake.

“Just one last time. I just want you one last time, is that okay?” Sebastian asks but what Chris hears is ‘Fight for me, please, don’t let me go, fight for me,’ and he wishes he could promise that. So hard. He wants to. Fight for him, hold him close, never let him go. Doesn’t want this – _him_ to become just a memory. Another missed opportunity. He wants Sebastian, but his brain starts listing all of the reasons as to why it’s the worst idea that’s ever occurred to him and–

“Yeah,” he answers before kissing back, shutting out all of the voices in his head, “yeah.”

They’re sharing a kiss, outside, where anyone could see them, take a picture of them, but it doesn’t feel important. What’s important are Chris’ hands touching Sebastian’s face, what’s important is him hurrying them inside, not to avoid the outside world but to not have to share their precious time together. Find their bubble of happiness where everything is always easy. No lie, no trick, no mask. It’s selfish but he also doesn’t want to give Sebastian the chance to think twice about it, change his mind because he does want him now, and so bad. One last, harmless time.

Just a goodbye.

Having tasted his lips, Chris wants more, in the elevator they’re still making out, Chris pressing Sebastian against the back of it, one hand on his neck and the other on his waist. Dragging him through the hallway until they reach the door and Sebastian hands him the keys. Lips wandering on Sebastian’s neck as he opens the door, and as soon as it is, they both step inside. Clothes flying everywhere and mouths slotted together, bodies reacting quick and needy.

They lay on the bed, finding what they need to, not bothering much about the rest. Chris is already working Sebastian open, savouring all of his delicious noise, feeling every touch of his fingers, and every hit of his impatient hips. He nibbles at Sebastian’s neck, bite his jaw, tugs at his lip, mouth over his cheek. Memorizing.

Two fingers stretching him open, Sebastian moans, low and sweet. Chris dies inside, realising it’s the last time he gets to do this; he gets to tease and please, hear that sound, feel him close. He realise it’s the last time he has him, like this, under him, just them, together, so he stops rushing things, takes his time instead. Worship Sebastian’s neck, his collarbone, loves all those places his mouth can brush. Admire every single detail. Kisses his nipples, sucking at them lightly, feeling them hard and excited between his lips. He melts at the cuteness of his belly, his smooth, baby skin; watches his ribs beautifully drawn through his flesh as he keeps moving lower, kissing his hipbones on the way.

Finding himself above Sebastian’s erected cock, Chris bites his lip, looks up at Sebastian staring down at him, mouth hanging open. He looks elsewhere, and completely there at the same time, holding on Chris’ presence above him, inside him, his fingers moving slow and nice. He closes his mouth, swallows, eyes still on Chris.

Sebastian will regret it, will regret having Chris in his bed one last time, Chris is sure of it, he’s been there before, so he decides to make it as enjoyable and forgivable as possible. Wet mouth falling and taking him inside, fingers filling and finding the perfect angle, Sebastian arching and Chris slowly swallowing him down.

Enjoyable, he said.

Although he doesn’t care about _his_ pleasure right now, what matters is Sebastian moaning his name like a sweet love song. A lovely air that’ll get stuck in his head for days, perhaps weeks until he gets crazy. Just like before. Because that’s what Sebastian does to him, he makes him lose his mind. Chris forgets about his aching cock craving for a little attention, focus on the heavy weight on his tongue and the delectable taste on it.

Sebastian’s squirming, moaning under his breath, hushed little moans. Enchanting and captivating. He’s never been this quiet before, it’s always been loud and passionate, but tonight it’s pure and chaste, low but audible, not outrageous and Chris thinks he could come from all of this; the vision, the sensation, the reason. Everything. Probably won’t, but he’s decided to make _Sebastian_ come like this.

Forgivable, he said.

The pre cum leaking in Chris’ mouth, fingers massaging his prostate, Sebastian whines, calling Chris’ name some more. His hand reaching for his hair, running through it fast, grasping, pulling.

“Chris,” he calls one more time, and Chris looks up at him. He’s stunning, his whole body, his face. Absolutely stunning. Pink cheeks and eyes barely staying open, he pulls again until Chris leaves his cock feeling cold without his mouth to keep it warm. Chris takes his time to join him, leaving a kiss on his abdomen, another on his chest, in his neck. Loving it for the last time.

Reaching the level of Sebastian’s face, the boy kisses him, eagerly, hips rolling against the mattress. The new angle must feel too good because Sebastian moans inside his mouth more loudly, and Chris’ lips leaves his mouth to slide along his cheek, eyes fluttering shut and finding his ear to breathe into, “you’re so beautiful. _God, you’re so beautiful_.”

But that’s not what he wants to say, that’s not the words going through his mind right now. That’s nine words when he only really needs three. Sebastian might be making a mistake but so is he. Stubborn and scared.

Sebastian rubs his cheek against his; lips pressing a kiss against Chris’ jaw line, fingers scattered in his hair, he whispers quietly but so adorably, “I want to feel you inside me, please. One last time, _please_.” And that last request kills what’s left inside Chris, he doesn’t want this to be the last time. Sebastian can’t become just a memory, just a friend.

This is far from being harmless.

And Chris knows if he complies he won’t last too long, just sliding inside could make him come, too much excitation and not enough attention, but he does anyway. Sebastian is already slicked up more than enough, and he’s been teasing and pleasing for so long he moves inside so easily, gasping loudly. Once inside he doesn’t move out, his cock nestled perfectly, he’s wonderfully tight and hot and so good Chris needs a few seconds before he makes the slightest movements. His hand finds its way to Sebastian’s cock to stroke lovingly, Sebastian’s got his hands on his back now, roaming when Chris start to pull out, gasping at his turn. Moaning softly when, halfway out, he thrust back in.

“Fuck,” Chris breathes for himself, “you feel so good, _so good_...” Maybe, maybe it’ll make him change his mind, maybe this isn’t the last time. It can’t be the last time. Maybe Chris didn’t fuck it all up yet. Maybe there’s a tiny chance. Maybe Chris can say it. Just _maybe._

Maybe Sebastian will still want him.

But Chris doesn’t get his hopes too high, focus on what he’s doing instead, making it enjoyable. Forgivable. Even if it’s not.

And it’s just too much. The gentle stimulation, the touches sending goose bumps through his body, the noises coming from Sebastian’s mouth in response of his words and his touch; it’s all too much. Chris’ teeth brushes his lower lip and he could easily cry right now and Sebastian rolls his hips, slightly, increasing a pace and Chris looses it. Comes inside him, swallowing down his groan of pure pleasure. He kind of get lost in his head at this moment, but stays present enough to keep stroking Sebastian, leading him to his own orgasm, feeling it on his chest and hearing it close in his ear.

He wants to stay like this forever but he eventually falls on the bed next to him, takes a deep breath and passes a hand on his face. He stays quiet for a while, Sebastian does too, not glancing at him, not sneaking in his arms, both of them just laying on the bed, silent.

And this silence is overwhelming.

“I guess I should leave now,” Chris whispers, breaking it because he can hear those three words too clearly in his mind. He’s hoping for Sebastian telling him to stay, to look at him and smile and wrap himself around him, laughing. He wants that, he wants Sebastian to be in his arms right now, and to kiss him and everything to be back to normal. Before he screwed up. But he’s still not responding, showing his back and Chris loses hope.

Just please, smile again, he begs wordlessly.

He doesn’t want to be that guy taking his happiness away from him. He doesn’t want to be the reason for Sebastian to lose his smile, forever, not when he smiles so much. So bright. He doesn’t want Sebastian to stop smiling, just like he did. He can’t be that guy, he can’t break him. He promised he wouldn’t be that guy. They’re not even dating, that can’t be happening, right? He didn’t just break his heart, did he?

“Yeah...”

But he did, he just did; and broke his own along the way. Sebastian doesn’t care to glance at him, still showing his back, so Chris wipes his stomach with the sheet, gets up on both feet and look around for his clothes to wear. Sebastian doesn’t stop him, but he does finally watch him. Eyes tired and broken expression, he looks hesitant and timid in a new way. Distressed, lost. He looks…

He looks different.

Everything is different.

Chris is sliding an arm inside his jacket when he catches Sebastian’s eyes. He’s getting ready to leave, he’s done enough damages already but he gets that awful weight on his chest and he can’t help himself and ask, afraid, “Friends?”

Sebastian’s wrapped in his sheet and with a broken smile he answers, “Friends.”

And then Chris is out of his apartment, out of his bed, out of his sight, probably out of his life; but Sebastian is in Chris’ heart and is in his mind, his expression vivid in his memory and Chris hates himself for the whole walk back to his home. Wondering what could he have done differently, realising probably nothing here is to change because he’s not ready. He can’t fight for him, not yet.

He’s not ready to commit and he never wanted to blow it all up, even if he already did. That was a terrible idea and he knew it all along. From that first night on Scarlett’s balcony to this few hours spent with him. Nothing in this was harmless, or forgivable. Just barely enjoyable in a painful way.

Chris doesn’t know if he can trust his last words, but if they’re friends, it’s already much more than he deserves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am terrible and I couldn't find a better name than _Existential Chrisis_ for their band and I am so sorry XD


	4. If you say you'll never go, I'll be screaming out your name from the back row.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Chris has to go the Grammy Awards and obviously he meets Sebastian there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of the chapter from The Fray's song "Be the one". 
> 
> WARNING : I'd rather warn you all explicitly. It's really brief, just one sentence but there's a mention of suicidal thoughts around the end of the chapter, so please be aware of this. Just making sure I'm not triggering anyone ♥ (If you want to know where exactly it is, it's in the paragraph following the words "Air. Space." which begins with "He needs them both.")

The night of the Grammy Awards, Chris makes the effort of getting dressed up in something other than his usual sweatpants and football cap. A few weeks went by since the night Sebastian and him agreed on staying just friends without any other benefits. He won’t lie; it’s pure agony. All of it is: remembering every details; Sebastian’s expression and words. The silence. Knowing he could have had him. _He could have_ , but he doesn’t and that possibility hurts him a little deeper each day.

They saw each other only one time between then and tonight; for a couple of hours, at the studio. Shyly exchanging polite smiles and awkwardly keeping their distances.

It just feels weird to be around each other now and it makes Chris sad to know he’s the reason why, because he ruined it all.

He spent a few weeks hating himself and not changing out of his sweatpants, but tonight Chris is wearing a nice tuxedo that Gucci kindly lent him because he can’t _not_ show up at the show. He thought about it, but Jeremy forced his hand, apparently it’s one of those occasions Chris’ whims won’t get him out of.

He admits he looks great in it though. He’s looking clean and nice, the tuxedo framing his shape perfectly, making him look all beefy and handsome. He’s too old now to pull out the card of false modesty, to pretend he doesn’t like the reflection in the mirror. He despites the person he sees, loathe him even, that’s for sure; but he looks great. He also spent some time with a hairdresser, so he didn’t have to do his hair nor trim his beard, and then he just joined his buddies earlier in the evening, not feeling like staying alone.

He’s feeling particularly nervous though, his stomach in tight knots already. He doesn’t exactly like red carpets, and pictures, and selling himself like a kind of trendy toy, but he has to, so he complies with the exercise. More or less happily.

Upside is he’s got both his friends with him tonight, downside is they both came with their significant others while Evans is alone, as always. He thought of bringing a friend along too, or maybe going with Scarlett like he did two years ago, but finally decided to come alone. Why bother, they’ll talk shit about him anyway. He can already guess the headlines: Chris Evans, Eternal Bachelor?

He’s doing his best with the photographs, to stay polite, to smile, taking it upon himself to fight the raising feeling of panic inside. He knows it’s nothing, that it’s just a few seconds and soon he’ll be inside but he’s just really feeling out of his element. Flashes, lights. Too much luminosity, too much brightness. Eyes watering and blinded. Heart pounding in his chest. He wants to run away.

He hates this so much. Their chats, their voices, calling his name, yelling it. It’s so loud, he can’t concentrate, tries to smile but it’s obviously forced, fake, not sincere at all.

Don’t freak out, Chris reminds himself, they’re just people.

He’s dripping in sweat, swimming in his shirt. Too much noise. Too much lights. He can’t stand to have all those eyes on him; feeling so alone. Like a circus freak. So exposed. Defenceless. He doesn’t know where to look at, glancing left and right, trying to cover his eyes with the shadow of his hand.

Smile, Chris, smile.

As he’s finally released from the zoo that the photo shoots are, he steps aside, stays outside just long enough to take a deep breath. They don’t seem to care about him anymore, someone else walking up the red carpet. He just peek to see who it and then he notices Sebastian from afar, making a first step. People calling his name like they called Chris’ seconds ago. He already knew Sebastian was going to be there, being nominated a few times it’s like an obligation for him. And even if it wasn’t, Sebastian would have still joined the party, all of his friends are here and he’s all about his fans. No way he would have skipped the ceremony.

But still, Chris doesn’t understand how he wasn’t expecting him to look this good.

He’s stunning, Chris checks him out from head to toe, from his shining shoes to his slicked back hair, and it hurts him. It’s a simple white shirt, a black waistcoat and a fitting black jacket, it’s nothing original besides the bowtie around his neck but it hurts. He knows what’s under those clothes, saw it, touched it, felt it too many times. He knows the curves of his waist, the thinness of his hips, the perfection of his ass –and he knows he’s only allowed to dream about them anymore.

It hurts even more to see Sebastian smile and laugh at one of Pratt’s jokes; it’s a shame they aren’t allowed to smoke here because he could really use a cigarette right now. Or a drink. Yeah someone give him a whiskey right now. Sebastian’s absolutely handsome with his dazzling bright smile and it just hurts too much so Chris walks away, runs away, hurrying to find his seat inside the giant concert hall.

He’s joined by Hemsworth and Tom not long after, both kind enough to not mention Chris’ miserable expression, trying to make him laugh instead. It works, eventually, Hemsworth mentions the really odd outfit someone is wearing seven rows in front of them, and Chris chortles. Horrible, no _hideous_ orange-yellow dress.

He keeps the smile on his face until he glances back at his best friend and notices Hemsworth winking at Tom, nothing out of the ordinary, but Chris feels his heart pinch. He swallows both his bitter laugh and his smile; crawls into his seat, trying to dissolve into it.

Alas, Chris is required to make small talk with the people around him, some are friend, the rest only acquaintances but he’s only doing the bare minimum. Fake smiling and staying as silent as possible until the person eventually decides to leave. Chris is really bad company tonight, but he doesn’t care. He didn’t even want to come anyway, maybe Jeremy will understand and not force his hand next time.

It gets worse when the lights go down and the ceremony starts; he was ready to clear his mind, to forget about his pathetic life for a couple hours but he spots Sebastian several rows in front of him, seated in the second row –and then he’s lost for at least the first fifteen minutes. He wouldn’t even be able to tell what has been happening on stage during those minutes as his eyes were absorbed by Sebastian’s presence. He’s doing nothing, just chatting with his neighbours and laughing but he’s enthralling.

Chris only realizes they’ve been calling the nominees for the first category when he hears Scarlett’s name called out. He applauds, by reflex first, Hemsworth nudging him nicely to drag him back down to earth with them, before Chris pays closer attention. She wins, and Chris escapes from his thoughts for a short instant, fiercely smiling and applauding loudly at her walking up on stage.

A marvellous gold dress that makes her look absolutely astounding; long curly blonde hair falling on her shoulders. Scarlett is a really beautiful woman and the spotlights are doing her justice.

It’s not her first award, far from it. It’s not the first time Chris gets to applaud and cheer for her either. It’s not the first time, and each time Scarlett slips in a mention of Chris, him and the whole band; a little nod at their long time ongoing friendship. She talks highly of him, probably more than he deserves, and Chris blows a kiss at her that’s caught on camera; Chris can watch his face in full HD on gigantic screens, just like everybody else can. So much for his comfort. Anxiousness going strong in his chest as the crowd express their fondness.

Oh hell, just leave him alone.

There’s a few other nominations, and as much winning. Some being friends, one being Sebastian and his heart breaks slightly when he gets on stage. He doesn’t even look for him in the audience. Not a discreet glance, nothing. Chris guesses he should just start to get used to it now; not being a part of his world. There isn’t any reason for Sebastian to look for his face in a crowd anymore. He’s just a familiar face in an ocean of familiar faces, one among so many others. Amid the other winners, some are new artists Chris has never even met before, and some are people he dislikes a lot.

He’s rolling his eyes at the winner of the latest category called up on stage when he notices Sebastian being gone. It can only mean one thing, and Chris wants to leave, escape, he could just excuse himself to the bathroom, _he could_ but he doesn’t. He stays. Waits. Observes. Listens. His heart beating fast and faster, skipping a few beats on its race. Apprehensive.

The melody that’s filling the room entirely, Chris knows it by heart now. Because he’s a big old sap’ and after he realised he’s lost Sebastian, he got drunk a few nights in a row, listening to all of Sebastian’s songs, missing the sound of his voice murmuring to him. Depressing himself a little more. He recognizes the drumbeat, the guitar chords and then the first note leaving Sebastian’s mouth.

He manages to stop himself before the first lyrics can fall from his lips.

Sebastian’s on stage, magnificent and splendid, just under his eyes. He’s glowing under the spotlights, ruling the choreography, nailing the high notes while dancing, all of it live. Chris stares, absorbed, fights his lips to not murmur the lyrics along as the chorus hits the speakers. Fails beautifully, a sad smile on his lips, not noticing his eyes watering slightly.

His performance is outstanding. Sebastian’s exceptional, singing a medley of his latest hits, his singles from his latest album, dancing, moving around and bringing all of the audience with him in his contagious energy. He’ll be showered with praise by the medias before the end of the night. He’s stealing the show.

His outfit is as perfect as his little concert, he changed for something more comfortable and glittery. Chris lets his mind wander for a few seconds; on what it could have been like to sneak backstage after, finding him sweaty and breathless, finding a way to get him out of this shirt and tight pants. To give him another reason to be exhausted.

He thinks, marvels about it before he remembers, realises; it’s not going to happen, ever. Sebastian’s performance ends after nearly ten minutes of breathtaking spectacle, or so Chris thinks. The music reduces but a man walks on stage, brings Sebastian a guitar and as he brushes the chords Chris heart stops.

He stops breathing, too.

Everything around him disappears, blurs and he’s back in his bed with Sebastian snuggling close weeks ago. The words he says, Chris is the only one able to murmur them because he’s the only one who knows them, heard them before, in the intimacy and privacy of his home. His face falls, Sebastian’s standing in the middle of the stage singing the song he wrote weeks ago when he was playing with Chris’ guitar. When he was naked in his sheets, tangled in them. When Chris was his only audience. Only fan. When Sebastian was confessing his feelings under the protection of creativity, not to speak the words out loud; not words, just lyrics.

It’s brief, not the whole song and Chris applauds when it gets all silent. His heart shattering into pieces at each clap of his hands. He watches as the room grows dark again and Sebastian disappears.

Out of sight, once again, but never out of mind.

Within all of the categories this year, Chris’ band is nominated two times. They’re listed in the upcoming category, and they all smile as the crowd cheers loudly for them at their presentation. He’s distracted by what just happened but his heart warms up at all the love coming from their faithful fans. He loves them, Chris really does love them, a lot. He owes them everything he has, sometimes he selfishly forgets about it and it’s moment like this that revive his memory.

At the sounds of their name being called, the three Chris’ gets up on their feet, smiling and hugging each other cheerfully. Both of his best friends steals a kiss at their proud significant others, but Evans gets kisses too; gets a high five that pulls him into a hug from Jeremy as well before he leads the way to the alley, all of them walking up on the stage. Proud, thankful.

Mostly thankful.

Chris forgets about Sebastian for a second or he tries to. He’s being handed the Grammy for the song of the year, and finds a few words to align and make some sense while doing a short speech. He’s not at ease with this kind of event, nor this kind of speech; he never knows what to say, always fears to appear condescending and ungrateful. Pratt sneaks next to him then, making Evans laugh when he notices; he leaves him the place, perfectly knowing he’ll be a better talker to thank everyone they have to, the fans especially. He listens to him, standing in his back, but he peeks at Sebastian’s empty seat, distracted.

They’re ready to leave the stage, showing the Grammy fiercely when Hemsworth runs back to the microphone and returns Scarlett’s earlier adorable words back to her, making his friends laugh and the whole room express their fondness once more. Scarlett sends them a flying kiss at her turn, smiling, gorgeous. Blushing a little.

While they’re backstage, Chris crosses path with Sebastian and he nods at him, he can’t even tell why, it’s just a reflex. Sebastian smiles back politely. Everything stops, again, stupidly; his heart, his breath, the people walking around them, the time. Chris just freezes. And then it all starts again, his heart fluttering in his chest and the noises in the room so loud in his ears. They pass next to each other and Chris’ hand brushes his back because of the room full of people, making it hard to either enter or leave the room.

It wasn’t on purpose but it haunts him, hoping he didn’t make Sebastian feel uncomfortable because of it.

He tries to not focus on it for too long but not too long is still way too long, and he can’t forget about it for the rest of the night. Neither can he forget about Sebastian’s song. He hangs out backstage a little longer, trying to clear his mind. Seriously, a cigarette or a drink, someone just give him a cigarette or a drink.

When Chris finally gets back to his seat, Sebastian on stage again. He’s already accepting his third award of the night; after Best Music Video and Album of the Year, he’s being handed the Record of the Year Award, apparently still as surprised each time he’s being called on stage and it’s genuine. It’s not fake, Sebastian’s speaking, overwhelmed, and his voice wrecks a little, it’s barely noticeable, but Chris hears it. Of course he hears it.

Sebastian’s thanking his fans, over and over again, repeating what everyone knows: Without the fans he wouldn’t be standing there, doing what he loves. Everyone knows but he still acknowledges it, grateful. Humble.

There’s a last award, a special one that Chris’ band receives for their whole career and this is why Jeremy didn’t let him skip the ceremony, because it would have been ridiculous to hand an honorary trophy to a band without the lead singer to receive it. For the second time of the night they walk up on stage and Chris says a brief few words before letting his two friends pick up the torch and thank the fans, again.

It’s a short minute, a few seconds where Chris struggles to not glance at Sebastian who’s sitting in his seat. He’s in his sight though, he can see him without watching him. Chris knows he’s looking up over here, he can discern a smile but he can’t tell for sure. He doesn’t want to be sure because he doesn’t want to look. He could be laughing at someone’s joke, he could be smiling to show his gratitude at someone for congratulating him. He doesn’t want to know if it’s him or someone else putting that smile on his face.

People applauds and Chris finally leaves the stage, relieved.

With the ceremony now closing, there’s only one more step to face but it’s a major one: the press, the pictures, all of that before he can finally get a well deserved drink for socializing.

 _Existential Chrisis_ joins the rest of the lucky artists of the evening backstage, everyone excited, jumping everywhere, laughing loudly, smiling brightly. Including Sebastian, trying to hold his three Grammys in his arms without letting one of them fall, laughing sincerely. Chris tries to look away, his heart sinking whenever he overhears the sound of his voice.

Chris and his best friends are answering a bunch of interview questions, talking more about their upcoming world tour, giving a few details away. Pratt and Hemsworth are being total dorks, pushing each other around. Just like kids. It makes every one laugh but Chris can barely fake a smile.

They take a lot more pictures with their two awards of the night, silly ones. Chris feels even more grateful that the first award recognizes a song that came from his guts, deep inside. It’s one of those songs that means a lot to him, he feels naked whenever he gets to sing it on stage, because he truly exposed himself in it, and to know people love it, relate to it, it does something to him. It moves him, really.

Eventually as he keep answering questions he finds himself next to Sebastian without noticing, and when he bumps into him, Chris can’t do anything but politely congratulate him. A smile flies on Sebastian’s lips before the photographers insists to take a picture of the four of them, the whole thing ending up rapidly into a general, group picture with all of the winners.

Chris is standing next to Sebastian, so close he can smell his perfume, so close it wouldn’t be weird for his hand to rest on Sebastian’s back so he lets it fall on his lower back, without exactly registering it, just an old habit creeping out.

Sebastian doesn’t shiver, doesn’t move away, doesn’t blink nor look in his direction. He smiles, happily showing all of his awards for the pictures and Chris gets his heart warmed by the simple idea of touching Sebastian without being called on it. Without it feeling weird.

He doesn’t want to begin to think it might mean something so he move it fast.

 _Finally_ the photographers looks done taking picture and Chris’ eyes can rest. He’s rubbing them when he hears a familiar voice close to him. Chris turns to see, many black spots making it hard to discern his face but he knows it’s him and he steps closer.

“You’re –You’re going to the after party?” Sebastian hesitates before asking, looking up at Chris without mentioning the hand that just fell on his back again. Old habit he said, he shifts into a protective mode whenever they’re together, he can’t help it.

Chris has to talk louder than normal to make sure Sebastian hears his answer, the crowd in the room is chatting too loudly to allow them to have a private conversation. “Yeah, are you?!”

“Yeah,” he nods, a little smile curved on his perfect lips.

“I see you later then,” Chris says as Pratt grasps his wrist to lead him at the opposite of the room, laughing joyfully. Another stupid prank to pull on someone probably. He wants to murder him for that, for dragging him away from Sebastian but he can’t very well do that with so many witnesses in the room. And cameras.

As they find themselves near the door Chris has to ask, because the question is running in his head and the answer doesn’t seem so obvious. “You guys coming at the after party, right?” He looks at both Hemsworth and Pratt, exchanging a look. “Right?” he asks again because he doesn’t like that look. He knows that look and that look is never good news.

“Sure, yeah bu-”

“Not gonna stay too long-”

They speak at the same time, in unison and Evans gets the hint, doesn’t know what he was expecting. They’ll come and leave in an hour or two, like they always do. He should be used to it by now. But it’s fine, it’s okay, he’ll have fun without them. Won’t even get into the argument of “let’s celebrate guys! We just won!” because he knows it’s not going to work the slightest.

They ultimately pull their prank on a poor Tom who probably regrets joining them tonight now, and when Chris comes back, trying to find Sebastian, he’s nowhere to be seen. Chris scans the whole room, but Sebastian must be gone already.

They arrived at the after party a half hour later, and Chris finds the bar quickly. He doesn’t wait for Scarlett to sneak up to his back and tell him to put down his drink, swallowing it in a gulp. And then he takes another shot, before bringing seven small glasses at the table where they’re all sitting at. Scarlett and Jeremy joining the five of them and –great, he’s not even a fifth wheel anymore, more like… the eighth one?

Chris smiles at Scarlett who’s kindly returning an adoring gaze; he fakes it perfectly enough that she doesn’t seem to notice. She’s probably forgotten what one of Chris’ sincere smiles looks like and he can’t blame her, it hasn’t happened in a long time around any of them. He’s feeling odd, nostalgic suddenly, he’d love to enjoy the party, really, and he wishes he could, but he feels like an outcast in his group of closest friends. Only friends.

Hemsworth’s got his hand on Tom’s knee, and Pratt’s got an arm around his wife’s shoulders; Scarlett and Jeremy are looking at each other like nobody else in the room matters, and Chris only has his two eyes to cry and a drink seducing him.

They celebrate; say cheers, bottoms up their shots and Jeremy leaves to bring real drinks that will last longer than one sip to the table. Or at least will last longer to everybody else. Jeremy doesn’t only come back with drinks, but with Sebastian as well and Chris swears the whole room spins around him when he looks up. That can’t just be the alcohol, there isn’t enough in his blood yet. It’s been like this all night; each time he saw him, Sebastian took his breath away.

“I found that lil’ guy by the bar, thought he had something to celebrate too.”

Jeremy’s smiling and Sebastian politely looks at everyone, saving Chris for the last, maintaining the eye contact. Liquefying him with his deep blue eyes, because tonight they’re bright blue and Chris has never seen them like this before. He melts into Sebastian’s gaze, feeling a wave of heat taking over his body, feeling it up to his cheeks. That also can’t just be the alcohol. Chris never blush; Sebastian can’t make him blush, not with just a look…. Alright, it _has_ to be alcohol, Chris is not a teenage girl with a crush, he doesn’t blush.

Jeremy moves of the way, sits back next to Scarlett so the only free chair is next to Chris. Sebastian sits without making any remark, only laughing beautifully in Chris’ ear when he hears Pratt trying to convince his wife to come dance with him.

The noise makes Chris’ heart skip a beat. Sebastian’s close presence makes him hold his breathe. He takes a long sip out of his glass, just to focus on something else; it doesn’t work. Sebastian’s obsessing him, this close, this beautiful. The sound of his voice and his song echoing inside his head. It probably means nothing, it’s just a song and a beautiful one. Sebastian is right to use it as a new single, it just… carries a memory he cherish.

It’s too hard, having him close but _not having him at all_ and the weight on his chest is too oppressing; Chris feels trapped. Everyone around him laughing and talking, acting like Chris seems fine. Like everything’s perfectly fine and normal while he knows, he knows he broke Sebastian’s heart. He knows he left him and just walked away. He abandoned him and now Sebastian’s barely inches away, smiling. Acting like everything is perfectly fine and normal too.

That’s too much, Chris takes another sip, legs shaking nervously under the table before he gets up on his feet suddenly. He excuses himself and grabs his jacket as he heads outside to smoke. Mostly just going as far from Sebastian as he can. He strides outside, just not to run.

He does it a few more times. Whenever Chris feels like it’s too much, like being around Sebastian is more than he can handle, he finds an excuse to disappear for a few minutes. Sometimes it’s outside to smoke, his packet of cigarette diminishing visibly, sometimes it’s to the bathroom to pass fresh water over his face; helps to keep his head down to earth. Helps with the alcohol and the stress, just so he doesn’t feel like panicking again. He’s so nervous already, he can’t risk to panic in front of everyone, in front of Sebastian.

Other times he’d get to grab another glass by the bar, drinking as easily as he’s smoking, maybe even easier, Scarlett throwing her greatest death stare at him whenever he’s not discreet enough. Or he’d just find someone he knows, pretending to care about them and whatever they have to tell him so he can leave his friends again until he feels able to come back and to stay around Sebastian again. Able to look at him and talk to him. Small talk. Just small talk.

Until that one time where it doesn’t work; when Chris says he’s going out to smoke, Sebastian asks “Can I join you?” and Chris can’t say no. Doesn’t want to, can’t fight it; accepts and hates himself because he’s got that déjà-vu, that feeling deep inside, tight in his chest, his guts thrown upside-down, making him sick just to remember.

Sebastian follows him, silent, waiting for them to be outside to speak again. The party is in a big house, the garden is impressive and gigantic, so much that Chris can’t settle next to someone to avoid being alone with Sebastian without it looking weird.

As Chris walks to a massive tree nearby, Sebastian sits on the bench right next to it.

It’s not freezing, but it does get cold whenever the wind raises and comes to brush their skin, Chris hears Sebastian shuddering as he takes a deep breath out of his cigarette. He glances in his direction, unable to hide the discreet grin on his lips, remembering the first night where he lent him his jacket.

Sebastian notices and returns his smile –probably remembering it too, both hands seeking warmth in between his thighs. Sebastian’s just wearing his white shirt and bowtie and he looks ridiculously handsome. He looks away, in front of him, still that grin on his lips. Chris’ smile fades slowly and he keeps his cigarette caught between his lips as he takes off his jacket, handing it to Sebastian with a tiny, cautious nod.

Sebastian doesn’t protest, accepts the offer as his smile grows wider, putting it around his shoulders.

Once he catches his gaze, Chris can’t look away, his heart sinking, the weight on his chest pressing harder and harder. So much he fears his ribcage might break under it. A lump in his throat, making it hard to breathe. Oh the memory hurts so much. The balcony. That night. Scarlett’s birthday. Sebastian’s eyes. His lips close. The touch of his hands and the warmth of his tiny body trapped between his arms. They could have had so much, together. It all could be different tonight if Chris hadn’t fuck it all up.

He takes another drag on his cigarette and almost chokes on it, his throat too dry to swallow the smoke.

“Maybe we should talk,” Sebastian tells Chris, catching him off guard.

He doesn’t answer right away, he stares at Sebastian and his stirring blue eyes and then nods briefly. He takes a last drag on his cigarette before throwing it on the ground, taking a step on it to light it off. He moves toward the bench and sits on the top of it, next to Sebastian and he waits for him to speak his mind. Is this going to be about the single? Is this going to hurt?

“Not here,” Sebastian whispers, looking down at the ground when Chris looks at him.

“Oh… alright.” He hesitates a long moment before he can bring himself to propose, “my place?”

He’s afraid of what could happen if they go there; or what wouldn’t happen, maybe? Afraid of what Sebastian wants to discuss, too, but he’s curious to find out. Oh, he knows curiosity is bad, but he’s never been a good guy so he’s all fine. He’s already going straight to hell, curiosity just isn’t the sin that will get his ass there. So many more higher in his list of flaws. It can’t be worse than it is now anyway, can it? It can’t hurt more, right? Because Sebastian’s not even looking at him now, all tensed.

Because it already hurts like never before, and if Sebastian wants to dig his grave maybe he’ll do him a favour after all. Just finish him already.

Make it stop.

Make it all stop.

He never meant to hurt him, never meant to be such an asshole, never meant for all of this to happen. He’d never apologize enough and he knows they’ll keep running into each other eventually. So he should just finish him. Say you don’t want to be friends, say you don’t want anything to do with me, Chris crumbles down internally. Just say it and it will all get better for you. No more burden to drag. Just a simple mistake in your life and a line in your next song.

Sebastian looks up but not at Chris, he looks in front of him, seem to consider the option. “Yeah,” he says finally, “yeah, sounds good.”

Only with the tone he uses, he doesn’t sound so thrilled by the idea and Chris doesn’t like knowing that. It saddens him. He fucked everything up so badly between them that Sebastian doesn’t seem to feel secure around him anymore and there’s no way it can get any worse than that.

Chris hates himself so, _so_ deeply, it’s everything he never wanted.

They get back inside and Sebastian gives him his jacket back, finally indulging him of a look and a quick thankful smile. It’s already pretty late, not an unusual time for Chris, but late enough that his friends left some time ago and that Jeremy is on his way home by now.

Jeremy is kind of his landmark, when he decides to leave, then Chris knows he should do to. Unless he never does, but it’s his sign that he should stop partying and leave, or at least that he should stop drinking. But he really never does.

He and Sebastian both walk toward the table, gathering some stuff they left there, Chris swallowing what’s left in his drink quickly and they leave incognito. Sebastian sends a text to his friends, explaining he’s not coming home with them –since they were sharing the same car. They walk silently up to Chris’ car, parked just a few minutes away.

Sebastian tries to say something when they reach it, about Chris having had too many drinks, so maybe he should be the one driving, but Chris dismiss him, “I’m good,” he says and Sebastian only answers, “Okay,” softly.

The silence of the car ride is broken only by the sound of the radio, and Chris knows Sebastian’s glancing at him, especially when he hears _Existential Chrisis’_ song on the air –the one they just won an award for, but Chris doesn’t glance back. He focuses on the road, knowing perfectly that he’s been drinking way more than he should have to drive, he doesn’t want to risk augmenting the percentage of stupidity he’s pulling off tonight.

Luckily they arrive at his place without any incident. Chris might be inebriated, might be a total idiot, but focusing on the road helps him getting over the fact Sebastian’s just inches away.

As they step inside the elevator, Chris presses another button than Sebastian probably expected. They’re not going to Chris’ apartment, instead Chris takes him to the rooftop for two reasons.

The first one is Sebastian’s reaction earlier when he mentioned his place, and the fact Sebastian doesn’t seem to feel secure around him anymore makes him sick. He wants to gain his trust back, little steps by little steps. The rooftop is a neutral place for this.

He can’t make up his mind, one second he craves him and right after all he wants is for Sebastian to say he’s done. _Done,_ with him, whatever they still have going on between them. Because there’s something, it’s floating in the air, it’s palpable, there’s something. Chris is always changing his mind, going back and forth between these two options. It’s tiring. Wearing.

The second reason is that he knows having Sebastian around makes him weak, that alcohol makes him weak. He’s had too much to drink tonight. Sebastian has been drinking too and he doesn’t want to watch himself throwing Sebastian on his bed. He doesn’t want to find himself in his back, hands moving up and down his torso as he kisses his neck and takes him from behind. He doesn’t want to carry him naked through the whole room like it happened before. The sound of his moans and the touch of his hands; the way he pronounce his name and his body squirms and shudders with pleasure. He doesn’t want any of that; even though he’s never craved anything more in his entire life.

There’re just too many memories held between those walls, he doesn’t want to feel tempted even more than he already is. Doesn’t want Sebastian to say yes and think it was a mistake tomorrow morning. Because honestly if Sebastian wants it, Chris won’t be able to argue, he’ll give him anything he want.

“Wow...” Sebastian murmurs under his breath when Chris helps him onto the roof.

“Pretty amazing view, huh?”

“Yeah...” He whispers, totally mesmerized, “ _wow_...”

Chris smiles tenderly, melting inside at Sebastian’s wide eyes looking everywhere around, spinning on himself. Sebastian is loving the view, like he should, but Chris sees in his eyes that sparkle he feels inside when he looks at Sebastian.

The view from this rooftop, it’s literally breathtaking, the landscape, the city above your feet; you feel endless and you feel free. Chris usually steps out of his body for a while when he comes up here; he just stares at the emptiness, stares at the lights, at the buildings, at the stars above his head. Sometimes he lays on the ground and gaze at the constellations, that little kid trapped inside him jumping excitedly in his chest.

He comes here often, to meditate, to think. To remember. To be alone again in the crowded circus that New York is. Always so much noise and lights and people. It’s his only heaven, a piece of serenity in this city of sin and temptations. And with Sebastian dancing on the gravel, moonlight lightening his face, Chris thinks he just found the exact meaning of the word wonderment.

He let Sebastian marvel a little more and goes to sit against the wall. He watches as Sebastian observes everything around him, bends over to look down before looking up at the clear night sky. Whirling, swirling, teeth nibbling at his lower lip. He’s looking around, everywhere, doesn’t seem to get tired of the beauty surrounding him, he’s got that sincere smile curved on his lips and god does he look beautiful.

Chris only has eyes for him and his amazement. It looks like he’s dancing with the stars, stunning under the wide night sky and it’s mesmerizing. Absolutely fascinating. Chris stays quiet, sitting in his corner, a sincere small smile on his lips as doesn’t get tired of watching him.

Chris isn’t sure how long it last before Sebastian walks back to him, alcohol poisoning his brain and his memory. Or maybe it’s just Sebastian who makes his whole world stop each time he’s around him. He leans against the adjacent wall, hands hidden in his pockets, standing up on his feet. Sebastian looks like he’s trying hard to find the right words to say, to start the discussion, struggling with phrasing off his thoughts. Chris probably isn’t any help either, staring lovingly and tiredly. So fond of him.

“I—” he starts but stops. His tongue rolls over his lower lip, pensive. Chris is staring from below, sitting on the dirty ground, waiting, his heart pounding into his chest. He’s not feeling any other physical expression of anxiousness yet but again, he’s had way too much to drink tonight to be aware enough of everything. He waits patiently as Sebastian seems to find new words to use; he waits because that’s it, they’re going to have this discussion. Now. That’s why the came here, to discuss and he wonders how many tears will be shed.

“I miss you,” Sebastian chortles painfully, looking down at his feet, his hands pressing into his pockets.

Chris stares without answering. He’s not sure what to answer, saying he misses Sebastian too doesn’t feel like the greatest idea at the moment. He just doesn’t want to wound him more than he already has. Chris hates himself so deeply, there’s nothing left for him to love inside. But Sebastian… The way he was marvelling at the view minutes ago, there’s just so much inside him. So much. Splendour, kindness, magnificence, beauty; there’s just so much good inside him, why would he fall for someone with such a dark soul?

Chris stares, silent and Sebastian finds himself all alone, tortured by those three little words echoing in silence surrounding them, echoing inside his head without a response to keep them company.

Chris watches him looking away, turning back to take a look at the city, both forearms resting on the cold stone, avoiding meeting Chris’ eyes at all cost. He feels monstrous, that’s the word, Chris feels like a monster for not answering, for not taking him into his arms, holding him close. Feels awful for making Sebastian feel like an idiot, confessing his feelings to someone who’s unable to hear them at the moment. Sebastian probably feels undesired and unloved while it’s the exact opposite.

God you’re so beautiful, Chris whispers to himself before a wave of self-loathing takes over his chest. Sebastian hides his face in his arms, head resting on his forearm as he looks at the stars. All Chris can see is his jaw line, perfectly drawn and the tip of his nose until he lifts his head.

“That was a bad idea,” Sebastian speaks again, biting his bottom lip. “I’m sorry,” he adds glancing back in Chris’ direction but refusing to look at him; he’s looking at the wall. He laughs painfully, looks in front of him instead of daring to meet Chris’ gaze, but Chris can see him, Chris is watching him. Hasn’t taken his eyes off of him all night. He can see his eyes watering and hear his voice wrecking. Sebastian takes a deep breath and looks at his left before starting to walk in the door’s direction, right next to Chris, “I should leave,” he says.

You should, Chris wants to say but doesn’t.

He looks at Sebastian walking away, leaving. He feels his heart sore, aching and hurt, he looks at his hands resting on his knees, rubbing one thumb against the palm of his other hand. Sebastian’s close to leaving, a hand on the doorknob. The door’s wide open now and Sebastian _is_ leaving.

Chris finally realises it, Sebastian _is_ leaving, for good this time. It’s Chris’ last chance here, right under his nose that he’s letting pass him by. He’s got the guy he cares about giving whatever they have a last chance and he’s letting it pass by. He’s a monstrous idiot and he’s never going to forgive himself. _Jesus_ , Chris, enough. _Enough._ For Christ sake just do something. He’s leaving you moron. _Leaving._

“Don’t,” Chris breathes, his eyes fluttering shut.

He swallows, opens his eyes ever so slowly, his head resting against the hard wall behind him. The alcohol makes him feel so light. He’s not looking at Sebastian anymore, it’s his turn to avoid his gaze, he looks at the sky instead, his thumb still pressing hard in his palm. Stars shining so bright in the clear night. Struggling to look emotionless while the tears are just waiting to be shed. Fresh air freezing his throat suddenly as he breathes deep. The weight of that single word sitting on his chest making it so hard to carry the air down to his lungs.

Chris doesn’t hear the door closing. He doesn’t hear a word, a reaction; knows Sebastian’s probably looking at him now because he heard him. There’s no way he didn’t. He heard him as well as Chris heard himself saying it, it was loud enough that Sebastian heard it and then -

“Give me one reason,” he hears Sebastian asking him softly and it’s a punch in his already wounded chest. “It doesn’t have to be a good one, _just give me one reason_ ,” Sebastian adds, sounding so close to begging Chris has to try to breath three times before air actually fills his lungs. Halting. Gasping for air as silently as possible, his eyes watering suddenly and just say it Chris. God damn it _say it_ , don’t let him leave.

“Because I don’t want you to,” he tells him, whispering pathetically, nearly sobbing. No, he can’t say it, but this is good, this is good too. This isn’t a lie. It’s the truth, he doesn’t want him to leave, he wants him. He’s been wanting him since he first met him and he’s never stopped for a second to want him since then.

Chris fights the self-loathing boiling inside. Fights the tears wetting his eyes, fights the lump in his throat, fights his pride. He massages his eyes by pressing his fingers hard against his eyelids, his hands running through his hair before hiding his face. He doesn’t move for a few seconds and it doesn’t look like Sebastian is moving either. Then Chris gets up on both feet, walks toward the edge of the rooftop.

Air.

Space.

He needs them. So much space. So much air. Why does he feel so oppressed right now? He tries another deep breath, staring at the city asleep at his feet because the immensity of the sky is too much to handle. He kind of want to rip off his shirt because he can’t breath, because it gets stuck on the way and he’s suffocating. Kind of want to jump off the rooftop because if Sebastian leaves right now it seems like a tempting idea. It’s high enough.

Sebastian’s still not saying a word and Chris finds himself in Sebastian’s former situation; looking at the scenery while not caring the slightest about it. About the building, about the stars, about the immensity and the damn moon and all those silent stars shining like life is beautiful.

Just praying to hear a voice, a word, a sound. Anything. Just anything. Please anything.

Leave or speak but do something, don’t leave me hanging, he yells inside. God he hates himself so much and his vision is so confused, so blur. His mouth is so dry and there isn’t enough air around, he’s outside but he can’t fill his lungs, they’re clogged. He can’t breathe. _He can’t breathe._

He doesn’t hear Sebastian walking up to him, doesn’t expect to feel his head pressed between his shoulder blades and to feel his hands around his waist and on his chest. By now he thought he was probably already gone and he was too busy screaming inside to hear him; but he closes his eyes when he does feel him pressed against his body, his hand reaching for Sebastian’s forearm on his stomach instinctively. Inhaling deeply.

He takes a few seconds where he just attempts to breathe. Sebastian’s hand raising as his chest heaves up and then down. Slowly. Intensely. Trying to calm down.

Then he shifts in place, keeping Sebastian’s arm wrapped around him; he leans back against the wall, Sebastian’s caught between his legs, one of his hand resting on his chest. He must look awful because when Chris finally opens his eyes Sebastian has this puppy look across his face and Chris wants to wrap him in his arms. He can’t see much, vision blurred, eyes wet and weak, tired and probably red; Chris closes them again a few times, blinking, before closing them definitely. Too exhausting to keep them open.

Sebastian’s hand reaches for his cheek, his thumb brushing the skin under his eye, wiping a tear away before caressing Chris’ lips. Bringing a salty taste on them. He whispers so close that Chris swallows down his question with difficulty.

“Do you love me?”

His heart aches again, hearing him asking it.

_Don’t._

It all starts again. Chris closes his eyes harder, pinches his lips together, he tries to breathe but ends up with the air stuck in his dry throat like earlier. He’s sure Sebastian can hear his attempts to breathe, stumbling over them. Another tear runs on his cheek when he whispers. “I’m terrified to.”

And then he breaks. The air gets trapped again but this time it’s worse, he can barely let it reach his obstructed throat. He desperately tries to catch his breath, sobbing and shuddering at the same time, lips quivering. The pain in his chest is excruciating, pressing so hard. Feels like his heart is about to burst out of his chest heaving up and down so fast, he’s hyperventilating. His heart is pounding, hurting, so forceful. He’s freezing cold and so hot inside at the same time. His hand rushes on Sebastian’s on his chest. He holds it, tight.

He let the words escape his mouth before he could find a filter to use, letting the raw truth out for the first time. And it’s just too much for him. He didn’t say no. _He didn’t say no._ He said the truth, he’s terrified, petrified to let someone in, to lose someone. He’s frightened at the idea of hurting Sebastian more than he already did. He’s terrified Sebastian gets attached to him and Chris disappoints him.

Terrified Sebastian might become like him one day. He doesn’t deserve that, he’s too sweet to be so bitter.

“Look at me,” Sebastian asks softly.

Chris doesn’t want to, doesn’t want to open his eyes again. He doesn’t want Sebastian to see him like this, he’s already seeing him as the total emotional wreck he is but it won’t be true until Chris opens his eyes and he can see himself in Sebastian’s eyes. No, it’s not that he doesn’t want Sebastian to see him, it’s more like he doesn’t want to see himself. His true self. A mirror reflecting a monster, those two innocent blue eyes. He wants the lie to go on, he wants to wake up and everything to be a dream. A nightmare. Anything but real. He doesn’t want Sebastian to read through him again and boy, _how does he even do that?_

Sebastian’s fingertips brushes his trembling lips again, pressing just lightly against them and then Chris feels his lips replacing his fingers on his mouth. A light, sweet, brief kiss. Oh, it’s peace for a second. Just a short second. Nothing. Stillness. Just nothing in his mind, nothing around. Empty from everything, just the taste of Sebastian’s lips on his and the salt of his tears.

And when Sebastian pulls away, Chris agrees to open his eyes, really slowly; when he does Sebastian’s tenderly staring. He looks pensive and then he breathes, “I love you.”

And Chris can’t tell if the weight evaporates or presses harder. He doesn’t reply back, stares voiceless, too many emotions bubbling inside him to list them all. He craves another kiss but he can’t move to let their lips meet once again. Numb. He does want to say something but he can’t think of anything. He can’t say that, he can’t say it. This is too much already.

Someone give him a drink or a cigarette; or just a kiss.

Just a kiss.

“You don’t have to say it back,” Sebastian keeps talking and Chris only now notices that he isn’t the only one with teary eyes, Sebastian’s are watering just as much. His voice is wrecking just as much. “I just want you to hear it. I love you Chris, you’re not alone, not anymore. I’m not going anywhere this time. I shouldn’t have left you.”

Left him.

Sebastian isn’t mad because it was his decision to leave. He wanted Chris to leave him, he wanted that last time and he wanted Chris to leave right after. He needed time just like Chris needed space.

He feels stupid for saying it but Chris does anyway. “Thank you.” Thank you for everything, understanding, thank you for accepting me as I am, thank you for loving me even though I can’t tell what there’s to love in me. Thank you for being you and being so caring.

After all, the idea is nice. If he’s going to be frightened by all of this, Chris would rather have Sebastian by his side than to keep hating himself for letting him down. For breaking him. Sebastian can make his own decisions, he chose to stop, then chose to come back.

He chose Chris.

Chris can make this work, it will take time and a lot of effort, but he can make it work, they can make it work, together, with Sebastian’s support because Sebastian worth the try. He’s worth it, all of it, to get his shit back together once and for all, the drinking, the partying, the stupidity, the stubbornness. The pride.

Sebastian deserves Chris to fight for him, because he’s fighting for Chris right now. That’s what he’s doing, fighting for him and nobody ever fought for Chris, not like this.

Chris leans in close, slowly, letting their lips meet in a nod or two until they melt in a chaste kiss. His hand softly lands on Sebastian’s cheek, to keep it warm against his palm. Sebastian shudders against him and the tiniest of smiles ghost over Chris’ lips. He strokes his cheekbone affectionately before leaving his mouth and connecting their foreheads together to take a look at his face. He wishes he could tell him the words he hears as clear as light in his brain but he can’t resolve himself to speak them out loud.

Not yet.

“What do you say we get inside?” he asks instead, sniffling.

Sebastian nods lovingly, his cold nose sliding along Chris’. Chris gives him a peck on the lips before releasing both Sebastian’s cheek and waist from the presence of his hands.

Sebastian turns around, starts to walk back to the door but Chris looks at the sky above him one last time. He takes his time, takes a long and deep breath of fresh air to let his thoughts clear and his mind quiet down. Night has always been Chris’ confident, saw many awful things and less wonderful ones; that’s another secret night is going to keep, just as a witness.

Chris facing his worst fear.

All the stars, they heard the unspoken words his heart refused to let out and they’re going to keep his secret until the little boy inside Chris can convince his heart Sebastian is everything he’s always wanted. More than music, more than space, more than peace, Chris has always wished for a family and maybe, maybe he just found it. Maybe Sebastian is everything Chris always wished for when he saw a shooting star across the night sky.

He doesn’t see Sebastian grabbing his phone inside his pocket and immortalising the picture forever, he doesn’t even suspect it because when he turns back to him, Sebastian’s standing under the doorframe, hands hidden inside his pockets, waiting for him.

Chris saw this landscape many times, he comes on his rooftop every so often, but he swears tonight it’s different; the smell is different, the lighting is different, the wind is different, the sounds are different; or maybe it’s Chris who’s different.

Maybe that’s how it feels like when you’re with the person you love, even if you can’t tell them. Even if you refuse to admit it to yourself yet. Maybe everything look, smell, taste different because they’re adding their loveable touch to everything around you. Their own piece of magic that shake up your world and make everything look more beautiful than it already is.

Because Sebastian makes everything more beautiful around him. He makes Chris feel like maybe he’s worth loving and that maybe he’s got a chance, maybe he’s got a chance to reach true happiness someday, and _that_ , that’s priceless.

 

* * * *

 

Since that unexplainable night, almost three weeks have gone by and tonight is the last of Sebastian’s private concerts. Chris only went to see him once, for the first one, he stayed hidden backstage, looking at his _boyfriend_ from the darkest corners of the room.

It was the smartest decision, to not show up at all of his concerts, at least it seemed like it. They weren’t drawing attention to _them_ like this and Sebastian was still performing every one of his shows with impatience, as impatient as he was to walk back to Chris’ place after. They haven’t done much those pasts few days, remained careful to not be seen together outside because Chris knew he wouldn’t be able to deal with it yet, Sebastian understood and luckily, paparazzi knows better than to wait down Chris’ building by now, so it wasn’t so complicated for Sebastian to avoid them.

But tonight is a bit different, tonight is the night where they’ll be singing their upcoming collaboration together, surprising Sebastian’s fans. That’s the first time they will sing it in front of a crowd and not in the studio, the first time actual people will hear it, not just Jeremy and a bunch of technicians, and it surprisingly doesn’t stress Chris out so much. Neither does the fact he’ll be sharing the stage with Sebastian.

It doesn’t stress him out, _so far._

Chris is backstage with his friends when Sebastian finally shows up, smiling brightly at him. Seems like there’s nothing to do about it, it will always makes Chris’ heart flutter each time he sees him all happy and desperately handsome. Sebastian walks in his direction, sits next to him on the couch and grabs a bottle of water on the table in front of them. Chris’ hand falls on his knee to squeeze. “Stressed?”

“Always a little, that’s what’s exciting, right?”

“Right,” Chris echoes, trying to forget about the insistent stare of his two best friends on them.

It wasn’t as difficult as he would have thought, to announce that he was seeing Sebastian. First he said he met someone, they rejoiced, then he said who it was and their smiles slowly faded and tensed. Forced and fake. That was probably comparable as a stab right in his heart, but he understood their reaction, but still it remained a bit offensive.

He took the time to explain; told them he’s been thinking about it, that they’ve been talking about it. Considering it. He told them they’ve been in and about for a few weeks so it wasn’t thoughtless, he did mention Scarlett’s birthday party and Jeremy looked at him like it couldn’t have been more obvious. He told them Sebastian makes him a better person and they eventually understood.

Scarlett though… Well Scarlett threatened to cut his balls off if he was to hurt Sebastian, which is probably a nicer expectation than the one he had in mind. She told him to be careful, not just about Sebastian’s heart, but his own too. She said she cared about him –about them, both, said Chris had been one of his best friend for so long she couldn’t even count the years, and she wished him all the happiness in the world, but he’d better not mess with Sebastian’s heart after what he’s been through.

Chris didn’t ask what it meant, even if it got him curious he refused to Google Sebastian’s name. He decided to let Sebastian have his own privacy and to wait until Sebastian decides he wants to talk about it, someday.

But right now Sebastian leans in to press their lips together, and Chris forgets what he was thinking about. It’s quick, a shy kiss that’s interrupted by Sebastian’s team announcing he should be on stage in two minutes. When he leaves the room, he makes sure to kiss Chris one last time before grabbing his bottle of water and disappearing in the hallway, all smiling.

For the first half hour, Chris and his friends chat, joke, and sing, preparing themselves and their voices; and then he decides that sneaking into the concert hall wouldn’t be such a bad idea. After discussing it briefly, they all head to the dark room.

Sebastian has been sold out for all of his dates after only one day of selling. A few hours if Chris remembers what he’s been told correctly. That’s quite an impressive thing to achieve, he’s not even sure their world tour tickets are all sold. He isn’t jealous though, just astonished by his modest and sexy boyfriend being an absolute music genius.

Jeremy was supposed to be here with them tonight too but he called Chris at the last minute, saying he wouldn’t, that he’d explain later. He apologized and hung up without letting any of them say a word. Sebastian was a bit disappointed but show must go on, as they say.

So they sneak into the back row, the three of them, standing there in the dark room, watching at Sebastian a guitar in hand, voice resonant against the walls. Acoustic show. All of the spectators, as a giant wave, moving their hands and lights, from left to right, the atmosphere, a perfect, soothing environment to Chris. It’s paradoxical, it’s loud but yet so quiet, the sea of hands, the perfect harmony of all the voices dissolving into one, it’s what Chris always loved.

And he gets to watch Sebastian’s blissful face from the back row, remembering and feeling all of the sensations raising into him from standing on stage. Feeling up to his chest, inside his heart, the peacefulness, the serenity, the stillness. The pride.

He stays standing there for a few songs, until Sebastian comes to the one Chris loves the most. A smile drawing itself on his lips as Sebastian sings the first lyrics. He holds on his voice, looks at him, so proud, so in love. The silence in the room, the murmurs, admiration, people adoring and worshipping his boyfriend.

And him, in the middle of them, a familiar face lost in among unknown ones. Just a fan among others. Sebastian notices him and he smile, it’s discreet and hidden behind the microphone but it’s here nevertheless. Suddenly it becomes their moment. It’s not like at the Grammys, it’s like back home in Chris’ bed. It’s the two of them all alone and the fans around. Apart. Their bubble of happiness where everything is always easy and simple wrapping them again.

Chris listens to it all, absolutely lost in the lyrics and the memories. And then Sebastian says “this one is the last one”, and the crowd yells and Sebastian laughs in the microphone. Chris smiles. He doesn’t want this night to end either. Sebastian says he’s got a surprise for them if they’re nice enough; and Chris finally leaves, unknowing Sebastian’s eyes were on him as he disappeared.

Once backstage, he’s getting ready, listening to Sebastian’s fake, _pretend_ final song and he could listen to him singing for days, years probably. All of his life actually. He’s jumping everywhere now, stretching out, laughing and the lump in his throat makes it hard to breathe when the last note is played by Sebastian’s fingers on his guitar. It’s a good stress. It’s the kind he lives for.

Sebastian’s talking to the crowd, and Chris doesn’t focus on what he says, he hears words and screams, feet hitting the ground in a chaotic beat. He sees Pratt’s smile widening, Hemsworth’s back as he steps on the stage and he takes a deep breath, following their lead, stepping into the light at his turn. Pushing the heavy curtain away.

Minutes ago he was standing back there, in the dark, unknown and unrecognized, a legitimate part of the crowd; and now he’s standing under the spotlight, cheered and acclaimed, applauded. He feels this heat all over his body, and the weight on his chest evaporates as he catches Sebastian’s gaze at the opposite of the stage.

The music starts and Sebastian’s lips move magnificently. He sings, dances, enjoys himself; he’s having fun with Hemsworth and his guitar before walking up to Chris, smiling, happy and full of life and Chris relaxes, joining him at the chorus. The lump shrinks, disappears completely and Chris scans the faces in the room, the crowd facing him. The sensations, the perfection of the moment are all imprinted in his memories.

He thought it’d be weirder to share the stage with Sebastian, but it’s the opposite, it’s never been any easier to face a room full of people who paid to be entertained. Sebastian’s so good at it, looks like he’s having the time of his life each time he’s on stage, under the lights. He’s made for this job and Chris just go along, unused to be overshadowed but Sebastian’s just glowing.

The whole song goes fine, lasts longer than intended because of Pratt having fun with the drums and suddenly it goes on again, an improvised song asked for by the spectators. An acoustic cover of one of their song. It’s only after ten minutes of improvised jam that Sebastian makes a final last, moving speech. Thanking _Existential Chrisis_ , thanking the crowd for coming and supporting him and the charity this whole special concerts thing was for.

The Chris’ leaves the stage to him, to enjoy a little more his earned acclamation. Sebastian takes a bow as Chris watches from backstage the curtains closing. When Sebastian joins him, he’s all sweaty and exhausted but the smile on his face tells how much he’s loved it, every night of it, it’s been worth it, all the hard work.

Now he can finally rest a little and Chris will gladly cuddle him all night and the following ones.

There are pizzas waiting for them and the working crew when they head back to the main room. Everyone’s gathered in the same small space, looking all tiredly happy and Sebastian sits on Chris’ lap, head resting in the crook of his neck.

It takes them about twenty more minutes after they’re done eating to leave the concert hall, the time to gather everything Sebastian had left in his dressing room, the time to say goodbye, to find the energy to move back to Chris’ place. When they pass the doors, holding hands, Chris prays for the ride home to be quick, but fans are waiting for Sebastian outside and he figures they’re not home yet.

What he can’t figure out exactly is who between the two of them removes their hand from each other’s but soon Chris is standing by Sebastian’s side, a little farther apart, signing autographs.

Everyone recognize him, not like it’s really difficult, they played during the show so they all know he’s here, and he’s wearing the same cap and coat he’s always wearing but no one seemed to notice they were holding hands.

There aren’t that many fans, so they can have a real conversation with them, they’re all so nice and Chris finds himself wishing they could stay a little longer but he knows how exhausted Sebastian is. How long those two weeks have been for him. He finds a way to get back to Sebastian’s side as soon as he can, his hand lands on his back and he whispers in his ear, Sebastian looks at him, nods.

Chris finds Sebastian’s hand to hold in his, tying their fingers together as they wish goodnight to all of the fans, that’s when he hears a music he’d recognize between billions, the sound of a camera taking a picture and soon a flashes lightening the street. He tightens his hold on Sebastian’s hand, makes his way through the now crowded street, avoiding looking at the paparazzi who’s talking to him.

Usually, he’d answered something along the lines of “fuck off” but tonight he doesn’t want to appear rude. This is a good night, let’s not ruin it he tells himself. Instead he walks to his car, leaving Sebastian to make the conversation, as politely as he can with the photographer. Even saying goodbye as they climb in Chris’ car and Chris is fast to start the engine, taking upon him to tell that paparazzi he’d better leave them alone.

And the ride home is oddly quiet until Sebastian speaks.

“I don’t want them to make profit off of us,” he says, looking at his phone on his lap. “We should make it official, us, not them. I mean... If you want to, of course.”

“It’ll be all over internet soon now anyway, right?” Chris asks, glancing at him and then back at the road.

“Yeah…”

He heaves a sigh. “Then do it, whatever you had in mind,” Chris shrugs, peeking at him, “do it.”

He doesn’t really care anymore because all that matters is Sebastian sitting next to him. They’ll support each other through this. Through everything. The backlash awaiting to be unleashed.  Everyone will know about them no matter what they do now, and Sebastian is right, he’d rather not let them make any profit from their personal life.

As they reach a red light, Sebastian speaks again, “You sure?”

“Absolutely,” Chris answers, his hand reaching for Sebastian’s knee, shifting to his thigh, “let the world know your heart is mine.” He smiles lightly, bends over to kiss Sebastian’s cheek before sitting back in his seat waiting for the green light.

“What about your heart?” Sebastian asks with a radiant, playful smile.

Chris smiles back, tilting his head enough to glance at him and see the stars shining in his eyes, “It belongs to you.”


	5. Now we're here and it turns to chaos, hurricane coming all around us.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which happiness can never last too long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from "Say When" which is probably my favourite song from The Fray, if not my favourite song ever. It also inspired the whole fic and can sum up the whole plot I think. So yeah, go listen to this song because I love it so much and it will give you an idea of the mood I was in when this story came to me. 
> 
> I apologize if this chapter is a bit long, I had to cut it in half because it's supposed to be twice this size -which is why you may have noticed the story is now 7 chapters long instead of 6.
> 
> Oh and I also made a photoset for this fic on [tumblr](http://beardhenleysandfingers.tumblr.com/post/129739448875/an-evanstan-singers-au-by-superanarchy-chris), yay!

As Chris planned it, a couple hours after Sebastian had posted the picture on Instagram, many more were out on internet. Of them leaving Sebastian’s concert, holding hands, getting into his car and just pretty much everything the paparazzi had been able to photograph. Chris was glad they announced it first, even if it meant their phones kept buzzing through all the way home, at least that guy didn’t get to make as much money as he was hoping to with those stolen pictures.

They both turned off their phones that night so they wouldn’t have to deal with the imminent backlash and all the horrible comments coming with just yet. Chris needed to savour his last moments of peacefulness, and Sebastian’s arms were the perfect place for it.

Sebastian turned his on after awhile, just to check. Chris peeked at the screen and he winced, not liking being the center of the media’s attention again. He was fine with the little bitching he had lately, a few pictures and harmless gossip, really, that was fine by him. Now he was going to face a shit ton of idiotic rumours and gossips and all of that stupidity that comes with fame. He wasn’t exactly thrilled, but if that was the price to pay for being with Sebastian, he’d sell his own skin to peel. As long as they’d spare Sebastian, he’d even give them the rocks to throw at him on top of that.

But the fact they titled the article as “shocking” made him grit his teeth. What was there to be shocked about? They’re dating, what a big deal. Sebastian scrolled down the article and “Chris Evans seems to have a heart after all” what the hell were they trying to say? He’s gotten such a bad reputation that it’s shocking he’s seeing Sebastian? Beware, the monstrous heartless eternal bachelor’s gonna corrupt the sweetest kid on the planet. Please.

“Go fuck yourselves,” Chris grumbled offended.

Sebastian laughed, put his phone back on the nightstand before snuggling back in Chris’ arms for cuddles, telling him to not pay attention. That this website is known to be just trash. He tried to distract Chris by mentioning one of the comments someone left on the article. It said Chris looks hot wearing lumberjack plaids and Sebastian needed to say he agreed with that observation.

Chris rolled his eyes and Sebastian lightly straddled his body, kissing everywhere between his shoulders and his neck, repeating the same thing over and over again incessantly and Chris is now apparently required to wear more of those, it’s a deal breaker or something.

Chris couldn’t help but melt at the touch of Sebastian’s lips and the enchanting joyful tone in his voice as he repeated it continuously. Sebastian has such delicate hands, smooth skin and purity on his fingers that always brings out the best of Chris. When they’re together the world stops and it makes no sense but it’s real, Chris gets dizzy and the words floats in chest, ready to burst out like butterflies out of a cage. But he always carefully lock them in, not ready to let them go free yet.

Sebastian kept his mind occupied for the rest of the night and if Chris was going to be accused of corrupting him, he could at least benefit from the advantages of such a ridiculous allegation. He did. For a couple days all he’s done was corrupt America’s sweetheart in white, love stained sheets. And Sebastian never once minded. Might even have requested more. An angel with a smile like heaven and eyes of evil love. Sebastian’s dangerous and he knows just how much, but Chris loves it.

Problem is, they couldn’t avoid the outside world for too long, as much as Chris would have loved to, they have responsibilities they can’t escape; and suddenly they were everywhere. In the press, on every website, in every magazine, trending on every social media. They had many opportunities to hear about what an adorable couple they make –or awful, really, it just depends on who’s speaking. It can go from ‘utterly adorable’ to ‘disgusting and barely legal’ in just a matter of seconds, just like Chris can go from ‘irritated’ to ‘infuriated’ in just as much time. They were also on TV too much for his own taste so Chris turned it off for a while; Netflix’s fine too.

Phones kept ringing and mail kept popping up, all day, every day without a break. Jeremy kept saying no to interviews and Chris kept rolling his eyes each time Jeremy considered one. Right, right, responsibilities. They couldn’t even listen to the radio without the host mentioning their relationship before their featuring song was broadcasted. Insane, really, just insane. No privacy at all.

They even got a nickname for their relationship that Sebastian finds, honest to god, absolutely adorable. Of course Chris loathes it. That was a debate during a full day actually, started from the moment Sebastian mentioned it while checking his phone in the morning and eventually ended during dinner after Chris surrendered on arguing about it.

“I just don’t get why the hell would they give us a nickname, what’s the point?” Chris sighed, exasperated.

“It’s funny, that’s all,” Sebastian answered with that stupid grin over his face, “and Evanstan isn’t that bad, we could have had much worse.”

That’s when Chris gave up; when he saw Sebastian grinning trying to eat up a slice of pizza with cheese dripping everywhere, licking his fingers trying to not make a mess of his carpet once again. Not that Chris would have mind considering how it ended last time it happened.

He gave up because Sebastian’s eyes were glinting ingenuously while sucking off his thumb with that stupid, gorgeous grin curved on his lips and he’s just too adorable when he’s amused to fight with. Chris also had other ideas in mind after Sebastian’s reminded him of their first time together involuntarily –and sucked off his fingers like that, truthfully. That’s an invitation to sin. There wasn’t any purpose in fighting about that ugly nickname anyway, besides maybe make up in bed.

They didn’t make up anything as they never fought exactly, but they still ended in bed faster than planned. And the carpet remained safe from any stain.

Sebastian’s dealing with everything so easily, it’s nearly baffling Chris. That’s not the first time he finds himself in a situation like this, he’s pretty much been in this position since he broke through without ever having a real break from the agitation. He’s used to people talking about him and paparazzi and gossips and all of that but still, it seems so easy when you listen to him.

For Chris though, well it’s harder for him. He tries his best to cope with everything –not as used to the attention drawn on them as Sebastian is, but it’s difficult to not grit his teeth whenever someone mentions their relationship. More often than not it’s to talk about their age difference, and Chris’ past known relationships, and life, comparing them to Sebastian’s and it hurts.

Chris is no angel, everybody knows that; everybody also knows Sebastian is one.

It’s difficult because Chris feels like being dragged right back to where he was a few years ago. Right when all this agitation was focused on him and his personal life. Who he was seeing, dating, where he’d go at night and how late he’d stay out. Who he’d go out with, how wasted would he leave the bar. It’s a tough part of his life, and not that long ago it was still going on.

It’s like pressing lemon over an open wound, each drop stings and doesn’t let you forget about the injury that’s healing. But it’s healing. Chris is. Little by little, but he’s healing. Past is past, and Sebastian is very much his present. They’re all trying to erase all of Chris’ accomplishments since those dark times, but Chris knows what he fought and where he is now. And he knows what part Sebastian holds in his recovery.

But when they get a –well deserved– break from the media, it’s the fans. Chris can’t blame them for wanting to protect Sebastian’s heart from shattering, but with all due respect to his fans: it’s fucking none of their business, Jesus. Chris is an understanding man but if he hisses at one more comment popping up on Sebastian’s locked screen, he’s going to throw it by the window.

Because Chris is trying hard, so hard to be good to him. He hasn’t been drinking more than a drink since the night of the Grammys, and he’s caring and affectionate. Spends all of his time telling Sebastian how great and talented and handsome he is. He takes him out on proper dates, buys him flowers, presents. Chocolates and more flowers because Sebastian digs flowers and Chris feels like he should have known that earlier.

But that’s how relationships work, you learn and you discover. You make mistakes and you get to know someone. Really know them. That’s what they’re doing, trying to know each other better, trying to have a normal, healthy relationship. Far from alcohol and parties and the hangovers coming with.

He bought Sebastian a necklace that he now wears all the time; never left it once since Chris put it around his neck. Hell Chris even cooks for him while Chris hasn’t cooked for anyone in months, probably years. Like real dinners, with a shit ton of preparation, a whole afternoon; entrée, course, dessert, with recipes to follow. Scarlett and Tom kind of helped with that, and it turns out Chris isn’t that bad of a chef. Or Sebastian has become a better liar and Chris’ palate isn’t what it once was, that could work too but he doesn’t want to believe that. He’s a good cook, come on.

Chris is trying really hard to deserve Sebastian’s love and nobody knows besides the one person concerned, and that’s all that matters to him. He’s fine with this. They can trash talk their relationship, comment their date nights, and bitch about their age gap, they’ll never know how wrong their assumptions are.

They’ll never know and it doesn’t matter, because Sebastian does. He knows and he’s grateful for all of his efforts. Sebastian is proud of him and it makes Chris want to make him twice as happy and proud. The smile on his lips when Chris surprises him with flowers makes him want to tap dance and the stardust twirling around in his eyes when he looks at him as they’re holding hands outside makes him want to eat him alive. He’s wonderful, handsome and just fantastic. Sebastian is just fantastic, and nothing less. They can say whatever they want, at the end of the day Sebastian’s the one looking at him with love and pride and respect sparkling in his eyes and that’s really all that matters.

He makes Chris a better man.

Because Chris doesn’t live his life to please them; it’s been a while since he gave up. There’s always something they don’t like and Chris has grown too exhausted to bother trying to be someone else. He’s living his life for himself and if they want to sit there and comment they can suit themselves. Chris won’t stop living because they wrote about what an awful choice of boyfriend he makes –which is not fucking true, by the way.

The only good thing is that Chris appears to be the bad guy but Sebastian remains as angelic to their eyes as he was before, at least he didn’t drag him down with him. Yes, that’s probably the only good thing.

But Chris gets better at dealing with everything with each passing day. He’s polite to the paparazzi when they meet some; he’s not refusing to leave the building when they’re waiting by the front door –like might have happened in the past– but instead he proudly holds Sebastian’s hand whenever they do. He even wishes them a good day. If that’s not making any effort, he doesn’t know what else to do.

He keeps refusing to speak about them and their relationship openly though, but Sebastian doesn’t mind, pretty much likes it actually. Sebastian doesn’t speak about them either in fact, because he doesn’t want to first of all and then because Chris explicitly asked him not to. He doesn’t want them to put words in his mouth and twist them around. They don’t need to be fed more; they’ll have to content themselves with a few pictures here and there and Sebastian’s tweets. Because that kid tweets a lot, Jesus.

But besides the pictures, they’re also required to do interviews; they can’t avoid them, it’s a part of their job. Ugh, responsibilities, Chris tends to avoid them as much as he can but Jeremy’s always keeping an eye on him to make sure he earns his pay checks. So, whenever Sebastian’s interviewed and asked about Chris, he keeps his answers evasive and polite, moving the attention back to his career elegantly, always wearing that adorable grin that Chris finds irresistible.

And Chris speechlessly wonders how he can stay so professional and polite, it’s a true accomplishment because he can’t. He really can’t. He, personally, always practice his death stare whenever someone mentions Sebastian’s name in front of him. Sometimes it’s a good thing to be massive and intimidating. They change the subject on their own. Kind of self-satisfying. Jeremy’s not fond of it, but he doesn’t exactly mind either. It’s as efficient as Sebastian’s technique in the end, right?

Honestly, everything is pure bliss for Chris besides these little inconveniences. He can truly say he’s happy for the first time in as long as he can remember.

Professionally, everything is great or more than great. Existential Chrisis and Sebastian’s collaboration song is an absolute hit; the clip has broken every record in less than twenty-four hours and so many more since then. Jeremy has a smile the size of the sun, as blinding too. No wonder, both of his most lucrative singers laying a shiny golden egg, he’s allowed to get cramps from smiling too much. The band also started their world tour with European dates not long ago, and Chris is having fun being back on stage. He did miss that aspect of the job a lot. Better than doing interviews if you ask him.

And as to his personal life, Chris and Sebastian are doing perfectly fine together. Sure Chris hasn’t been able to say those little three words yet but it doesn’t exactly seem to disturb Sebastian. They’re okay like this, Chris shows he loves him as much as he can. He can’t say it yet, but he shows him every day and Sebastian is loving all of his dedication and attentions.

The band is currently taking a few days break before starting their American concerts but when Chris was in Europe, Sebastian had a new bouquet of flowers waiting for him every day, and they got on the phone every so often. Like, three or four times a day. All the time, actually which made everyone laugh.

Chris’ friends teased him about it, Pratt especially. He kind of likes to embarrass him. Oh they’ve always known Chris is a real romantic deep inside. It’s just funny to see that Chris being back. Truthfully, it’s also funny to him. He kind of missed it, caring about someone like he cares about Sebastian, wanting to make him happy and everything. It’s liberating in a way, to remember he owns a heart and it’s capable of loving someone, not just beat pointlessly to keep him alive.

Sebastian came at the airport when they got back from Europe, and Chris felt that wave of elation washing over him at first glance. That familiar heat and uncontrollable joy taking over his chest and making his heart flutter and skip a few beats. Sebastian might have forgotten to mention he’d be there, but that’s the kind of lie he likes. So yes, if you’d ask Chris right now, he’d say he’s happy.

But Chris has been back home for three days when that morning happens. Sebastian cleared his schedule to stay with Chris as long as he could. Turns out it was really hard to stay away from each other for that long now that they’re officially dating and enjoying life together. Almost three weeks away from each other, or in other words: excruciatingly long.

The only problem remains the same one than weeks ago. The media. They’re always after them, no matter what they do, where they go. They never have enough. They never say enough, post enough pictures. They always dig into their past and try to find that one little detail, that one statement, anything that could bring them down.

And one morning, Chris wakes up to an unusual sound.

 

* * * *

 

Chris feels the mattress around him, tapping here and there with a hand, unable to touch anything but the sheets and a pillow. There’s nobody in the bed next to him, no presence, no company, just an empty space, not even warm anymore. He’s not fully awake, dozing, lost in a light slumber, swimming between two different worlds. One is a dream and one is real, one of them is luminous and shinning the other is dark clouds and obscurity. He thinks he knows how to make the difference now. Real is incandescent because Sebastian’s smile is as bright as the sun and dream is an unavoidable nightmare where demons dance around a gravestone with his name written on it.

Eyelids too heavy to open, he forces himself to wake up, one eye at a time. One foot out of the grave at a time. The room is brightly illuminated, the line between the two worlds shades off and his brain switch on.

All he can see is Sebastian’s definitely not in the bed, not next to the window either. There’s no sound except one Chris tries to decrypt as he emerges slowly. The noise doesn’t even seem real, too quiet, hushed, muffled. That could be just a trick of his brain but that’s not what his instinct tells him. He tries to listen more attentively.

Sobbing. Sniffling. Silent crying. Melody of tears.

Chris’ head is sunk in his pillow, too tired to move. “Seb?” he calls once but his voice is apparently still asleep, just like the rest of his body.

No answer, just the sounds quieting like Sebastian’s trying to silence them. Because it can only be Sebastian. Chris finally opens his eyes fully, blinking a few times. He cranes his neck, body still numb and heavy in the bed, he looks all around the room as he yawns his way out of his somnolence.

There’s no one by the kitchen and Sebastian isn’t on the couch either. He sniffles again, close, so close. Chris sits on the bed, vision still getting used to the daylight, in the morning it’s always blinding with all those white walls and they did fall asleep late last night. His fault, he admits it.

Chris is physically exhausted but he leans on one hand, scanning the room.

He spots him. Sees Sebastian’s hair on the edge of the bed, a black mass pressing against the mattress and another strangled whimper, as if Sebastian’s trying to be fully silent now but fails to hold his breath.

“Babe?” Chris calls again before he crawls on the bed. Muscles shrieking inside that it’s not wake up time yet, too late because his brain is wide awake. Worried by those unusual sounds. He slips out of the bed lightly, nimbly kneeling next to Sebastian who refuses to look at him, choking on his attempt to breathe and hiding his face in his hands.

“Seb?” Chris whispers, “baby?”

He grabs Sebastian’s wrist, gently, pushing it away as tenderly as he can to reveal his face he’s hiding under. Red, wet, tired and puffy. Heart-breaking and Chris’ heart squeezes. Tears under his swollen eyes, all red and broken. Chris might forget to breathe as he witnesses that wrecked expression for the first time.

Sebastian’s refusing to look at him, to meet his eyes. Rosy lips parted as he stumbles over his new attempts to breathe. Chris just revived the pain by exposing him to his eyes. Traces of other tears on his cheeks, shattering Chris’ heart into pieces. How long as he been crying alone? He’s sniffling, and sobbing. Having a hard time to catch his breath like something’s hurting him. Pressing on his ribcage. Like he’s aching inside, hurt and broken.

“Hey, baby, hey,” Chris says fast as pulls him into his arms. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

At the contact of his chest Sebastian collapses, breaks down completely. Crying loudly against the warm skin of his body freshly out of the sheets. Bursting into fresh new tears, inconsolable. He cries, and no matter what Chris does he doesn’t respond. Just grips at his arm, not wanting to let go of it. No matter what Chris says, Sebastian doesn’t reply, doesn’t pronounce one word. Just grips tighter.

Chris tries to stroke his hair, tries to soothe him and finally ask again, “talk to me? Please?” Because it’s all starting to scare him.

But Sebastian still doesn’t answer. Whether he can’t or doesn’t want to; he’s not responding in any way. It’s awful to see him like this. He looks like he’s in agony, his pain and distress unbearable and weighing on him like all the misery of the world. Tiny shoulders crushing under such heaviness. Of course they’d crush, but Chris could help carrying it if he’d explain what he’s supposed to hold for him.

And he starts wondering if he’s causing this, his suffering. If he’s done anything wrong, if he said anything yesterday that he doesn’t remember, if Sebastian heard something he might have misunderstood. Or if Chris should just call 911.

Sebastian doesn’t seem to calm down, not for a single second. It’s sobs and then cries before he snivels and cough, his wet eyelids brushing Chris’ chest and fingernails sinking in his flesh again. It’s distressing. Oppressing, same weight growing on his chest. He can’t help him and it’s only quiet when Sebastian manage to take a deep breath, and even then the silence hits as hard as the sounds.

It’s disconcerting, why wouldn’t he speak or why couldn’t he? Chris is confused, and perturbed. Million questions and concerns in mind. He’s never seen Sebastian like that before. He’s never even seen Sebastian crying before, weeping, sobbing but never crying like this and it’s absolutely petrifying and heart-breaking. Chris is just petting his hair, rocking and shushing him as much as he possibly can but his heart is breaking into smaller pieces second after second.

He has already no idea what to do right now but the more time flies and the less he knows.

“Sebastian, baby, you’ve got to talk to me because you’re scaring me now,” Chris says feeling his eyes watering a bit in turn. Because he doesn’t understand a single thing and it’s frustrating and terrifying. “What happened? Are you hurt?” he asks again but what he really wants to ask is if he’s done anything. He just want an answer, an idea of what’s wrong.

Just speak, goddamn it, speak.

Silence is worse than anything else. He can’t do anything if Sebastian refuses to speak, and he can only imagine the worst if Sebastian doesn’t want to. Is it all his fault? He can’t be hurting him that way, not that bad. Please. What has he done this time? Sebastian cries even more, mumbles something Chris doesn’t understand, his voice muffled by Chris’ chest. If he even was able to articulate words correctly it’d be easier because Chris isn’t a mind reader. Just make words, it’s not that difficult, Christ. He doesn’t say that, but he thinks it shamefully.

“Hey, hey, okay, enough,” he tells Sebastian softly but firmly. He tries to stay calm but it’s windy inside. He’s forced to stay still and hold him but there’s storm of feels within him. He has to know what’s wrong soon because it’s killing him not to. He feels powerless and weak and he loathes it. That can’t be physical pain, Sebastian would speak, would tell him, so what on earth is so wrong it gets him voiceless?

Just please, don’t let this be the end of everything. He doesn’t want to loose him.

Cradling his face in his hands Chris forces Sebastian to look up. “Breathe,” he says looking into his eyes, “breathe, with me, okay?”

He gives him an example and Sebastian tries to follow it. Chris nods, wiping his tears away. “Good, good, you’re doing good,” he tries to encourage him as Sebastian seems to start to breathe better now. “I’m right here, you’re okay, just breathe,” Chris says again.

Sebastian’s eyelids are glued together and his eyes are watering, on the edge of shedding more tears. Sebastian eventually breathes more calmly, staring deep into Chris’ eyes and they’re piercing with fear and pain, shame and panic. His pink lips trembling, puffy rosy cheeks soaked from his own tears, Chris’ jaw clenches in incomprehension and helplessness. That can’t be the end, it’s something else. It has to be something else.

“Talk to me, please?” he asks again.

Just please, talk to me. He’s going crazy now, his brain won’t shut up about everything he’s ever done and said and Sebastian’s looking at him and crying. It’s hurting him. Why does he look so frightened and livid at the same time, why can’t he just explain? Chris needs to know what’s wrong because he can’t just sit there and listen to him crying and feel him shuddering in his arms without knowing why. It’s unbearable.

Sebastian chokes on his breathing again, blocked up nose and parched throat and Chris breaks at his turn, feeling a tear drop off his blurred vision. He’s not sure he noticed he was about to cry too; busy focusing on Sebastian, his own body switched in background task. What the hell happened to turn his boyfriend into such a mess? Chris wants to pull him into another hug, he wants him calm and quiet and secured. God, he can’t stand to see him like this, knowing he’s failing somewhere, he should protect him, he should do something, he’d do something if he knew.

He nearly begs, his voice wrecking. “Baby, please.”

He doesn’t care he just need to know. Sebastian still hasn’t spoken a word. He doesn’t know how long they’ve been lying on the floor like this but an hour wouldn’t be so far from the truth. An hour like this and Chris still doesn’t know. Just the sound of his voice, a word, an explanation, that’s all he wants and then he’ll hug him, hold him close until Sebastian decides it’s enough. Or he’ll leave, if they break up, whatever he feels is better for him. But he needs to know for Christ’s sake, it’s driving him insane to sit there helplessly.

Sebastian grabs his phone next to him, tries to unlock it with a shaky hand. Chris watches him before he holds his wrist to steady it, letting him now he’s here, whatever Sebastian wants to do, he’s here. He moves his fingers to cover Sebastian’s hand with his own. Sebastian’s hand is still shaking under his and Chris kisses his forehead.

“Shhh,” he murmurs between two kisses, his other hand running through his hair. He glances at Sebastian attempting and failing again and the screen tells him to wait two minutes before he can try again. Sebastian yelps, hiding his face in Chris’ neck. He buries it deep in the crook of his neck.

“Baby,” Chris says lowly, powerless. He wants to give up, he has no fucking idea what to do anymore. He’s tried everything he could think of. Sebastian’s leaning on him with all of his frail weight, delicate hands shaking with a stupid phone in one hand.

“Shh,” he continues to murmur, trying to soothe him, appease him, anything. More than wanting to know, he wants him to calm down. “Do you want me to do it?” he asks as he takes the phone from Sebastian’s trembling hand. Sebastian shakes his head vigorously, gripping at Chris’ arm, clinging on it. “Okay,” Chris tells him, nodding, “okay, you do it.”

But just do it, Chris wants to say but he doesn’t. Storm is raging inside wrecking the ghost town that his soul has become. Just ruins. Because he’s empty, holding on Sebastian’s presence in his arms to remind him he’s there. That this isn’t one of his nightmares. He wishes it was.

He keeps the phone in one hand, giving it back to Sebastian when that stupid screen says he can try again. He brushes his hair back behind his ear as Sebastian finally succeeds to unlock it.

He looks up at Chris then, apprehensive, hiding his phone. Hurtful look on his face. Damaged kid, so broken. So innocent, so pure. What the hell happened to him? He’s devastated, overwhelmed by something and Chris starts fearing what would happen when he Sebastian finally spits it out. What if–

“I –I can’t,” Sebastian says as he inhales sharply, stuttering and stumbling over his words and Chris is just relieved to hear the sound of his voice. He can speak. “I can’t show you, I –I, please don’t hate me,” he says more loudly. His body shakes like he doesn’t know how to control himself anymore. Worried, anxious, distraught. Near a state of real panic.

“Why would I hate you?” Chris lets the question escape his lips before he even realises it. He doesn’t realise it after Sebastian’s eyes are shedding another tear. He’s not helping, he’s hurting more. That’s not what he should have said. Fuck. You gigantic asshole, do your fucking boyfriend job as long has you still have it.

He tries again. “I don’t know what’s happening,” he says softly, trying to sound calm and reassuring, “why you’re crying like this but I’m not gonna hate you,” he promises, wiping the tear away. “Baby, I promise you. Please tell me now because you’re scaring the hell out of me.”

Sebastian hands him the phone, bright screen, website. Headline. Words mixing together and they don’t mean what they mean. They can’t. Picture, he scrolls down. Another one, Sebastian, no, that –no. That can’t –and it feels like the ground is giving up beneath him. Like the whole fucking world is crashing down and everything inside him is tumbling down like dominos. That might be worse than breaking-up because it sucks out all of his emotions and fears, and everything inside him.

“Please don’t hate me,” Sebastian repeats crying and Chris barely hears the words.

He stares at the screen, numb, stunned. He’s being swallowed down by the floor crumbling under his knees. Astonished. Shocked. No words, nothing, just a bit of wrath growing slowly inside that’s appeased by Sebastian hurt face when he looks up.

That doesn’t make any sense, but it calms him enough. He doesn’t find the words to say, looks back at the screen, but refuses to scroll down again, his thumb hiding what he refuses to watch. It’s enough. Sebastian’s naked on a bed and it’s enough. The headline is enough. It’s all enough.

“Say something,” Sebastian begs, “please, please don’t hate me.”

Chris tosses the phone on the floor nearby, brings Sebastian into his arms, holding him tight. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he repeats as Sebastian almost constricts his ribcage, holding on him like buoy in the middle of the ocean.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he says again as Sebastian cries on his chest. Still under the shock, he runs a hand through his hair. He looks around the room, that’s his home, his walls but they feel unwelcoming. Hostile, cold. Not like his home anymore. He wants to rip off something, punch a wall, it’s itching in his spine but he holds him tight but not as tight as Sebastian is holding him.

He strokes his back and his hair, kisses his head and temple and forehead. Reassuring him; he’ll never hate him. He loves him too much. There’s a part of relief he feels in the middle of the rising anger, because he didn’t screw it all up, but anger is definitely stronger than the rest.

The same two pictures like black spots in front of his eyes and he fears he might never un-see them again. That they’ll be recurring in his nightmares now. They’re forever in his memory and so is Sebastian crying against his bed because of them and the others he never wants to see. Chris sits down, grabs his legs, put them above his to hold Sebastian closer. He understands better, he understands his distress and why he couldn’t speak a word because the only reason Chris can use some is Sebastian’s tears.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he tells him when Sebastian’s sobs soften. He’s been crying for so long he should be drained out by now but tears are still flowing up, just more slowly.

“Don’t be mad at me, please,” he whispers all curled up and pressed against Chris’ chest.

“I’m not mad,” Chris speaks back, how could he be mad? “It’s not your fault,” he insist. He’s not really dazed anymore, seething inside. From what’s the headline said, Sebastian isn’t the only one exposed on internet. Sebastian’s gripping tighter, sobbing against his chest and Chris just want to throw the phone incessantly buzzing on the floor by the window.

Just shut the fuck up.

He holds Sebastian for a while, repeating the same words over and over again. “It’s not your fault”; “it’s gonna be okay”; “I’m here.” Even though he doesn’t exactly believe in what he says, that’s what Sebastian needs to hear right now. Of course he’s not going to be okay, who would be okay with their privacy all over internet but Chris is here, and this isn’t Sebastian’s fault on any level. So it’s just a half lie, right? It can’t do more damages.

He comforts him as much he can, rocking him until Sebastian eventually falls asleep in his arms and Chris remembers he doesn’t know when all of this happened. How long Sebastian has been up staring and crying over his phone while Chris was sound asleep. And that gets him even more upset and angry. Not after Sebastian, after the whole situation, after everything, not after Sebastian.

The phone buzzes on the floor yet another time and Chris has had enough of it. He slowly gets up on his feet, carrying Sebastian in his arms to lay him on the bed. He covers him of the sheets and sits next to him. He caresses his cheek tenderly, singing softly and crooning as Sebastian writhe on the mattress, “I’m right here, it’s okay. Get some rest baby, I’m right here.”

He’d say ‘I’m not leaving you’ but that’d be lying. He only wants to leave the bed and walk around. He can’t stand to stay still, but he does, because Sebastian needs him close more than Chris needs to walk in circles.

Chris makes sure Sebastian is definitely asleep before he leaves his side. Just running his hand through his hair one last time. He looks exhausted, all carved up but so calm now that his eyes are closed and his head his pressed into the pillow. His face is still hot and reddish, but more relaxed and Chris takes a deep breath finally noticing how silent the room is. Soundless. Voiceless. He looks around and right back at Sebastian when he’s nuzzling his face against Chris’ pillow, frowning. He looks miserable but at least he’s asleep. He hopes he can rest for a moment, he needs it.

Chris grabs Sebastian’s phone on the floor, grabs his own on the nightstand and paces the room as he looks through his own notifications, unable to stay still. Texts from friends, family, co-workers, from acquaintance. People he didn’t even ever met. All worrying over the news and leaked pictures. He’s got countless unanswered calls, many unread mails, but he doesn’t even bother to look at any of those.

He skims through a few texts, a bunch coming from Scarlett worrying. First asking if he’s seen the news. If Sebastian’s with him. Then asking him to call her whenever he can, wondering how Sebastian is, if he has any news. All of those from early in the morning. It’s past noon now. He looks at Sebastian’s phone, he’s got much more notifications.

He looks quickly into it, just to see if there’s anyone he has to murder, he stops skimming through it when he sees unanswered calls from his mother. He looks at Sebastian again. This is unfair. They’ve gone too far this time. It’s not gossips and rumours, it’s pictures, it’s privacy. It’s someone’s life they’re playing with. Someone’s emotions, someone’s entourage. It’s Sebastian paying the price of it and Chris would trade place in a heartbeat.

Chris is about to put the phones down and go back to him when Jeremy calls on Chris’ phone. He hesitates for a few seconds, looking at Sebastian asleep, not wanting to wake him up. He eventually picks up before it’s too late.

“Hold on,” he murmurs as he hurries himself in the bathroom trying to be as soundless as possible. He pushes the door but doesn’t close it, an eye set on the bed and Sebastian lying in it.

“Okay, I’m good,” Chris tells Jeremy still cautiously to speak lowly.

“Man, is Seb okay? He’s not answerin–are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Chris lies, gritting his teeth. The anger is palpable in his voice, he’s sure Jeremy knows him well enough to hear the irritation in his tone. “Seb’s sleeping,” he adds, looking up at him again to verify if his information is still true.

“Explains why you’re whispering.” Chris scoffs harshly as he can imagine exactly Jeremy’s face frowning at such an obvious statement. “How is he?”

‘How d’you think he is’ are the first words that comes to him but instead he chooses a less accusatory answer. Not Jeremy’s fault after all, he’s just worried. “Hurt, he’s been crying all morning.”

“Understandable… Did he say anything?”

Chris turns to face the mirror behind him, sees his reflexion in it and he doesn’t like it. Stern traits, dead, murdering eyes. “He’s not in the mood to speak you know,” he says sarcastically, trying to not spit the words either, containing his anger. “What do you have?”

Jeremy pauses, not a sound on the line, then he asks, “do you really want to know?”

“Tell me,” Chris says seriously. He stares at himself a bit longer before he looks at the bed again through the mirror. Sebastian’s moving, writhing, agitating himself and Chris turns back to open the door wider, still staring from the bathroom. If he wakes up he’ll just hang up, his manager can wait.

“Fine,” Jeremy sighs, “so far all I know is the pictures were taken last year, around summer–”

“D’you know who took them?” Chris cuts him, Sebastian finally calming down.

“You haven’t seen all the pictures, have you?” Jeremy asks and Chris remembers he didn’t, didn’t want to, what he’s seen was already too much. He guesses the guy must be in the pictures too. Chris doesn’t answer, Jeremy continues, “Seb’s ex, Anthony.”

Sebastian mentioned him a couple times, it didn’t seem to be exactly the definition of a perfect relationship. He was sad each time he talked about him, suddenly quiet and withdrawn. Chris chose to not ask for more information, Sebastian would talk to him when he’d want to. It’s not like he’s still hiding a huge part of his life, Sebastian has the right to have secrets of his own. All he knows so far is Anthony is a rapper and they dated for a few months, seems like the media loved them together.

Chris takes a deep, audible breathe. He wants to ask who leaked them but if Jeremy knew he would have started by reminding him he can’t bail him out of jail for murder, or some kind of shit like that. He didn’t, so he doesn’t know.

“Listen, I’m taking care of it okay? Calling lawyers and everything,” Jeremy says, “just take care of him.”

Jeremy says it nicely but it shakes Chris up. The distress in Sebastian’s eyes flashing again in front of him one more time. “I’m not sure I can...” He says because Jeremy is one of the very few person he trusts enough to open himself to. He looks at his face in the mirror again, and all Chris sees is a coward staring back.

“Just be there for him, Chris. He needs you right now.” Chris peeks at Sebastian again, Jeremy talking in his ear, “I’ll call you when I know more, if you need anything, call me, any time.”

“Thanks,” the word lingers on his tongue bitterly because he’s never been one to ask for help even when he was to really need it, and he adds, “for everything.”

Jeremy hangs up, telling him one last time to look after Sebastian, and how sorry he is but Chris barely listens. He sneaks back into the main room, grabs a glass of water that he drinks rapidly. It doesn’t have any taste and Chris hates it. He could use a drink, but he promised. He walks around the apartment a little more, glancing through the window to see tons of people waiting outside the building. It’s in those kinds of moments he wishes he knew how to make a Molotov cocktail, would be really handy. Not sure Sebastian would appreciate the gesture though.

He climbs back into the bed, lays against Sebastian’s back, holds him close and Sebastian moves even closer. Chris puts the sheets over him correctly, he’s been moving so much they’re barely covering his skin anymore. He presses a light kiss in his neck, just hugging him for a while until he eventually falls in and out of sleep. Waking up, blinking a few times and his eyes heaving him back to sleep.

When Sebastian stretches next to him, Chris blinks again, forcing himself to wake up. Sebastian shifts in his arms to face him, still looking drained, bleary-eyed and sad.

“Wasn’t a dream, hm?” He asks softly, voice barely above a whisper. He’s somewhat hopeful in his tone while being totally aware of the slim chance it was all a nightmare and Chris has no idea what expression he’s returning him because he’s lost in his emotions.

Chris thinks of the journalists and paparazzi waiting outside and he feels so sorry, extremely angry too. That’s the main emotions he can discern. This isn’t fair. Something so mean happening to someone so sweet. He doesn’t have one bad bone in his body; he’s all kindness and compassion. From his spine to his lips and fingertips, Sebastian is built on care and attention. He never deserved this.

Chris shakes his head lightly, apologetic.

Sebastian’s voice wrecks, hopping between talking and murmuring, “they’re waiting by the front door, aren’t they?”

“I’m sorry,” Chris whispers. Sebastian’s eyes are watering again and Chris’ heart blows apart once more. It was left broken but it’s endless, as long as it’s beating it will feel like shattering every time his blue eyes start drowning helplessly. “C’mere,” he whispers as he brings Sebastian close, kissing the top of his head.

He just holds Sebastian against him, not wanting to let go. Wanting to make him feel loved and secured, not ashamed and miserable. Sebastian cries quietly on his shoulder and Chris doesn’t know what to say anymore, he can’t even imagine how Sebastian must feel but holding his trembling body is oddly calming his own wrath.

He fucking hates the media but he’s not mad, angry or fuming when Sebastian is in his arms, he just wants to quiet his pain. Kiss it, brush it away. Anything that might help him. He pets Sebastian’s hair softly, leaving a kiss or two, Sebastian eventually stops sobbing, eventually looks up at Chris with that heart-breaking puppy look across his face. Chris looks back with all the empathy of the world, the back of his brushing his cheek. “Are you hungry?”

It’s starting to get late now, they haven’t left the bed all afternoon and Chris is worrying Sebastian must be starving himself. Sebastian pouts absently, shake his head lightly. Chris wants to sigh, defeated, but he tenderly tries to coax him instead.

“C’mon, you need to eat something, just a little something, please?” Sebastian looks so worn out, so drained from any kind of energy and happiness so Chris insist again. “Whatever you want, I’ll cook if you want me to.”

“I don’t care,” Sebastian says lowly. There isn’t an ounce of joy and his voice and it’s killing Chris, his stomach tightening. This is another kind of sadness and pain Chris never felt before, and he can’t fix it. He can’t drink it away, he can’t scream or punch it away, all he can do is nothing. Nothing, just look at him and try to be supportive and loving but he’s afraid it might not be enough. Afraid he might not doing it well. His baby blue eyes are burning out slowly, he’s surrendering and Chris can’t keep them alit.

“Baby,” Chris calls softly, saddened.

Sebastian snuggles closer. “I’m feeling so bad,” he says hiding his face in Chris’ neck.

“I wish I could do something,” Chris whispers back and he continues to caress his hair gently. He’d trade place if he could, without thinking twice. If only he could. Sebastian doesn’t deserve this. “Please baby, just eat something for me. Please?”

He insist on food because it’s one thing he can do for him, it’s an action, because even if it’s unnoticeable Sebastian will feel better with something in his stomach. Because for a short moment he won’t feel helpless but helpful. That’s one thing he knows how to do. He’s been there, lethargic, moping and giving up and he knows even if it’s imperceptible, leaving the bed for a couple minutes helps. Thinking about something else, as silly as wondering what to eat, it helps.

“Come on,” he says reluctantly pushing Sebastian away as softly as he can, “I’m gonna find something for you to eat.”

Chris gets up, expecting Sebastian to lay there but he follows him, hiding behind him as Chris opens the fridge. There isn’t much in it, he’s supposed to go back on tour soon and Sebastian spends most of his time at his own place when Chris is absent. Sebastian’s head sneaks under his arm, and Chris’ hand fall on his hip.

“See anything you want?” He asks, pulling Sebastian in front of him, arm encircling his waist with his head nestling in the crook of his neck. He holds him close, closest as he can, makes sure to tighten his grip on him.

“No,” Sebastian mumbles disheartened, not even bothering to look inside the fridge.

“Okay, and what about cookies?” Chris tries to ask again. “Do you want any? Or I can cook you pasta. I don’t know if you want something salty or sweet.”

Sebastian grumbles and whines shifting back into his arms, bringing Chris to the verge of tears. He has no fucking idea what he’s supposed to do. This day feels endless as his nightmares seem to creep back in reality. He hugs Sebastian, in the middle of the kitchen, fresh air of the open fridge cold on their skin. A sincere and warm hug with demons dancing in his chest. There’s a crack between the worlds and they’re slipping through it, he feels it inside.

He ignores them.

“Baby stop crying,” Chris breathes as he fight back his tears. That’s almost begging him now, because Chris can’t stand it anymore. He can’t stand to see Sebastian like this, so wrecked and sad; he knows too much how it feels to be so numb and broken and empty inside. He wouldn’t ever wish that on anyone, especially not Sebastian. He’s a sunshine, he’s always smiling, always in a good mood, so optimistic, so positive and cheerful.

He cradles Sebastian’s wet cheeks in his hands, kisses his salty lips. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise you it’s gonna be okay.” He looks at him in the eyes, deeply, looking for that stunning spark of happiness always hidden in them, but it’s not there, not anymore, drown in dark blue. He’ll light it again, he’ll find a way. He can’t let it burn out. That’d be too sad.

Sebastian’s knees weakens, he’s shaking. Wobbling, breathing audibly, lips trembling with tears dripping down his face, “please don’t leave me,” he now begs him with his voice wrecking.

Chris’ heart stops, a couple seconds, and then breaks down in million pieces. Everything crumbling down inside again. Each time it gets more painful and Chris thinks it can’t possibly get worse but it does. He stares astounded, like he just got hit by a brick. He feels one of his tear rolling down his cheek and landing on his lips. He’s begging to not leave him.

“Why would you even think that?” Chris asks, his hand firm on Sebastian’s neck. Sebastian’s eyes are so red and wet, his lips trembling uncontrollably and Chris is hurt he’d even think of that possibility.

“Just please, promise me,” Sebastian repeats, still shaking, blinking. He can’t keep his eyes open but he doesn’t want them close either, tears stinging. There’s a suffocating hope gleaming from his soaked eyes that Chris tasted in the salt landing softly on the tip of his lips. He’s drowning his hope in the tears, he’s scared, terrified and sinking silently but it’s inside them. He’s really hoping Chris promises him.

“I’m not leaving yo–” Chris starts before he takes a deep breath, staring at Sebastian.

Now is a better time than ever. It’s just foolish pride. It’s foolish pride and he needs to get rid of that weight on his shoulders. He won’t let his pride mute his love. He can say it, in an exhale he can say it. They’re just words, and they’re icing back and forth on his lips, rolling on his tongue but staying soundless in his throat. He can say it, he’s not going to let his pride dig his tomb yet another time. Sebastian’s heart is not his graveyard.

So he lets the words out. “Baby,” he says to catch his attention, pouring his fears and hopes in a rush of breath, “I love you.”

He says it, consciously, meaning it to his very core. He’s been holding them back for too long and Sebastian needs to hear them. Because it’s maddening, how much he loves him. He’s so deep in his skin there’s no way Chris can lie to himself anymore, he stopped trying to a while ago. They aren’t in a movie, he’s not going to scream it from the rooftop or chase him through a pouring rain, or whatever cliché there are in the movies.

He loves him and he says it when it feels right, and right now feels right. Sebastian said it when Chris needed to hear it, and Chris is saying it back when he needs to hear it. It feels right and he feels light but his heart is still racing in his chest, Sebastian’s eyes staring in awe.

“Do you hear the words I’m saying?” He asks him to make sure Sebastian’s paying attention. “I love you,” he murmurs, looking deep in his eyes. “I’m in love with you, I’m not leaving you. Ever. Get that idea out of your head. You’re stuck with me.”

The tiniest smile creeps on Sebastian’s quivering lips, another tear rolling on his cheek. “You love me?” He says and repeats it again, almost incredulously. “You said you love me. You said it.” He coughs, sniffles, passes a hand under one wet eye, and then the other.

Lake blue eyes illuminating, and there’s not a single word to describe their beauty. Angel dust carried in watered pristine eyes. All the words Chris can think of feel tasteless, bland, so insipid. So far from the truth. Not even his I love you can outshine their gorgeousness.

It’s like trying to take a picture of a rainbow on a rainy day or the moon on a late night walk on the beach; you can grasp the beauty in a photograph but you can’t begin to brush the loveliness of when you were looking at it. It had splendour and radiance, so vivid when you were looking at it and you can’t put it into words, the picture just simply doesn’t do it justice. Words don’t do Sebastian’s eyes justice, not even a song could. If he could lay it on paper, pencil in hand and tune in mind, that’d be peak of his career but he can’t put into words and chords the simple innocence and ardent love he sees. There’s just so much he can’t describe.

The world simply hasn’t ever seen eyes like his, or else it’d be in every book, every painting, every poem. It’s the kind of beauty that deserves centuries of appreciation, but for now Chris is the one enthralled by them, his heart beating fast.

Sebastian’s staring with indescribable eyes, quaking lips trying to contain an outstanding smile and Chris melts inside. Hurt and alive at the same time. “Were you really doubting it?” He asks, helping Sebastian by brushing another tear away.

“I, I–”

“No, don’t answer that,” Chris stops him, he doesn’t need to know the truth, doesn’t need to hear it. Doesn’t want to. “I know you weren’t,” he says but he doubts it, he lies, but it doesn’t matter if it makes the trick. “I love you, that’s all that matters right now, okay? I’m not leaving you,” he promises.

Sebastian snuggles into his arms again, nuzzling his face against his bare chest. Chris wraps his arms around him, “now can you please eat something? Please,” he seizes the opportunity to ask once more.

Sebastian looks up shyly through his eyelashes, the fireworks in his eyes taking Chris’ breath away. “Say it again?” he asks with his innocent sparkling voice, “just one more time.”

Chris laughs, he’d sing if that’s what he needs. He’d learn these words in a thousands of languages if it meant putting a smile on his lips every time they taste salty. “I love you,” Chris repeats.

Sebastian tries to forbid himself from smiling too much but he’s adorably failing and Chris melts all over again. “Can you like, repeat it again? Just so I’m sure I heard it.”

“I love you, Sebastian, I love you.” It’s getting easier and easier to say those words each time, his heart blowing up with love. God, he’s the most adorable and beautiful person he’s ever laid his eyes on. Chris cradles his cheek in the palm of his hand and pulls him closer to kiss him from the tip of his lips. “Do you need me to say it in Romanian? Because I could learn it–”

“You love me,” Sebastian cuts with a beaming grin as his eyelashes flutters with adoration.

Chris’ smile fades a bit, sad to see how much joy it’s bringing him to just hear them out loud. Like it’s only now becoming real to him. Like he’s been living in suspend of the sentence to crush his dream one day. Chris is not the only one relieved of a weight, and that makes him sad.

“I’m sorry I haven’t told you before,” he confesses. He fakes a smile and he adds, “I’m kind of a fucked up guy if you haven’t noticed.” It’s a joke, except it’s not.

“I surprisingly did,” Sebastian teases him, sniffling again, “but that makes two of us now.”

“Don’t say that.” Chris frowns. “You’re not fucked up.”

Sebastian doesn’t answer, just nuzzles his face against Chris’ bare chest and Chris stands there still frowning. He doesn’t like Sebastian’s joke, not the slightest. Sebastian might be hurt and broken, but he ain’t fucked up. Fucked up is when you’ve passed the stage where you’re hurt and broken, fucked up is when you’re left with nothing at all but bitter laugh, fake smiles and self-loathing. Sebastian’s wings are broken but they’re not ripped off, he’ll fly again and Chris is stuck in an oil slick.

Fucked up is when underneath the anger, the pain and the sadness it’s just other layers of the same recipe and the demons are meaner as you dig up. Anger is wrath, pain is ache and sadness is misery. Chris is fucked up, he’s even more fucked up that he thought he could heal. That Sebastian could be some sort of rope that’d eventually pull him out of the pit where he lays.

It worked for a bit, Chris saw the light of life, love and hope and that kind of bullshit he’s been chasing his whole life but something happened, and whether it was a hand gripping his ankle or the rope slipping through his fingers, he fell. Fell hard on the ground and the impact awakened his worst fears.

Demons are dancing, twirling around on his shoulder now, laughing cruel and mean. Chris would give them a sideways look if they were real, but there’re deep hidden in his mind, busy pushing buttons and messing up with his thoughts and self-control.

“If you think I’m gonna give up on the idea of feeding you,” Chris says suddenly to lighten up the mood, “you’re dead wrong my love.”

Sebastian eventually gives up and agrees, a smile on his lips, savouring the words he heard Chris say. Chris finds a box of Sebastian’s favourite cookies somewhere and while he’s making him a hot chocolate Sebastian waits by the counter, finding his abandoned phone on it. As Chris puts the mug in the microwave, he turns to see Sebastian unlocking it and he sighs before he comes to take it out of his hands.

“Don’t do that to yourself,” he tells him, “forget about it for tonight”. He puts the phone back on the counter slowly, leaving a kiss in his neck to distract him. “I talked to Jeremy, he’s taking care of everything, don’t worry about it for now.”

He’ll be holding on that tiny smile all night. He’s very well intending to keep it on his lips, no more tears, just no more tears tonight. No more demons, no more fears. Just smiles and I-love-yous and that means no phones allowed. Only cookies and hot chocolate.

“It’s just… My mom called,” Sebastian says lowly. He looks back to meet Chris’ eyes and Chris is about to say something but Sebastian speaks first. “What did Jeremy say? Does he know how they… they ended…”

“No,” Chris cuts him off, the less words he speaks, the easier it is to forget about this whole thing. “No, not yet. I’ll call him again tomorrow if you want, just try to not think about it too much,” he asks him, leaving a kiss on his cheek and brushing his hair back behind his ear. Sebastian looks down at his phone, sadly so Chris kisses him again.

“I know it’s not easy, I know,” he tells him, palm of his hand tenderly warming up his cheek. “So what movie did you pick?”

Sebastian decides on a blockbuster he’s been harassing Chris to watch for weeks, and Chris couldn’t say no this time. Really he would have watch anything Sebastian might have wanted to, even if it meant watching a really dumb movie that’d make him want to burn his eyes with acid. Honestly he would have watched any of Adam Sandler’s movies if Sebastian wanted him to, which is exactly the same as wanting to set his eyes on fire.

The microwave beeps in the kitchen and Chris tells Sebastian to get back to bed and put the movie on while he brings the food.

He feeds him cookies while watching a big success he was stubbornly avoiding for years now. A film about war and soldiers, and superheroes. He can’t tell for sure yet. Sebastian’s comfortably lying in his arms, his head resting on his chest, Chris handing him a cookie to bite every few minutes, forcing him to drink his hot chocolate as well. Sebastian’s finally quiet, captivated by his favourite movie, or at least that’s what Chris understood is.

And Chris could really get used to this, so easily. They could have this, whenever, they could just be together, escape the wildness of the media forever. Just the two of them. He should buy them a cabin in the woods. They’d be great there. Chris would wear lumberjack plaids all the time, chopping wood to keep them warm. They’d have sex by the fireplace. It would be quiet. They don’t need much after all, just a little food and each other’s arms. At least Chris doesn’t need anything more.

He’s softly tracing the line of Sebastian’s spine, half in his thoughts, half watching the TV when the movie ends and Sebastian looks up slowly. It’s partly for Sebastian and partly because he’s really getting into it that he looks back at him. “There’s a sequel, right? Do you want to watch it too?”

“Do you?” Sebastian’s smile is a little more obvious this time and Chris definitely can’t say no. And he also really wants to see that movie, he won’t confess that though.

“Sure,” he nods.

Sebastian explains what happens in the other movies of the franchise so he won’t lose Chris in the sequel. He explains about a god, and a green beast, explains about Iron-Man and the S.H.I.E.L.D and Chris adorably listens to everything. Sebastian’s fascinated by his own words and explanations and it’s just… refreshing. He still looks exhausted and his eyes are still puffy, but at least he’s forgetting about the rest of the world and Chris can’t ask for more right now.

Chris succeeds to make him finish the full box of cookies during the second movie. He’s proud of that, he only stole one for himself. He can starve, that’s okay, but he won’t let Sebastian be hungry. Chris struggles to not yawn during the last half hour, eyes watering slightly from exhaustion.

Sebastian nuzzles his face against Chris’ chest again, pretending not to cry but Chris would rather have him crying because of a movie, which is fictional, than over his life, which is very real. At least he really hopes he’s tearing up because of that guy falling from that helicarrier.

When the movie’s over it’s way past midnight and Chris is way past the tired stage. Sebastian, even if emotionally exhausted, doesn’t seem to be as tired. So Chris widens his eyes, blinks a few times before Sebastian looks up at him. “You’re tired,” he says, almost guilty of being the cause of it. He isn’t, the world is.

The world is fucked up in general but their world is even more snarky. Fame is full of hypocrisy. They love you and praise you like you’re some kind of prize, token, a gladiator back in the days. So you win a fight, and others before you start winning battles and championships and tournaments. They raise you as hero and you see other fall just to wonder when it’ll be your turn. You escape it as long as you’re lucky and one day you’re not anymore and your corpse is used to feed vultures because it amuse the crowds.

If you’re really lucky, it turns out you were a phoenix all along and you rise from you ashes, just to make them shut their stupid mouths but that’s in fairytales only.

Even if Chris despises it, he needs to sleep. Even if he’d want to stay up all night if it means keeping Sebastian company and keep his mind busy, his eyelids are so heavy it makes it hard to keep his eyes open. “I’m fine,” Chris says, “anything else you feel like watching?”

“A few, I need to re-educate you.”

Chris smiles tiredly before he yawns. “I’m fine,” he repeats when Sebastian looks away sadly. “So what other masterpiece of cinema did I miss?” He brings him closer, his body is getting sore of supporting Sebastian’s light presence for hours but he won’t let go of him.

“So you liked Captain America?”

“Wasn’t as bad as I expected, I’ll concede it,” Chris actually liked it but he won’t say those words exactly, or he might end up watching real terrible movies on the grounds of changing his mind over Captain America. Not gonna happen, crying puppy eyes or not.

Sebastian kisses his neck, suggests another movie and Chris sleepily accepts. He barely makes it through the first ten minutes before giving in. He tries to fight it but it’s too difficult in the comfort of this position with Sebastian in his arms.

When he wakes up again the room is all dark, Sebastian had turned the television off and it’s still the middle of the night. He’s ready to fall back asleep when he hears him sniffling quietly, Chris sighs. Sebastian’s back to him, all curled up on himself and Chris moves closer, wraps his arm around his skinny waist before kissing the back of his neck. “C’mere,” he whispers.

Sebastian doesn’t protest, rolls over to him, sticking himself to the warmth of his chest. Crying silently. Chris runs a hand through his hair, the other one wandering on his back tenderly. Soothing him. It seems to help, to appease, comfort him a little and Chris mentally slaps himself to stay awake this time, at least until Sebastian’s not himself asleep.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Chris risks after a moment, Sebastian could burst into an incontrollable flow of tears again but it’s better than just hearing him sniffling on his chest and act like he’s ignoring it.

“Not really,” Sebastian answers weakly.

“You should have woken me up,” Chris whispers, “I don’t like knowing you’re crying while I’m right next to you, just sleeping.” Because that happened twice now, and he feels like the worst boyfriend ever.

“You were tired,” Sebastian tries to defend himself, “and I’ve been crying all day anyway.”

Chris kisses the top of his head, awaking more and more as the time passes. “Anything I can do?”

“Hold me?” he answers, both arms pressed on Chris’ chest. Chris holds him tighter.

Morning sunlight is slowly invading the room and Chris gives up on the idea of Sebastian getting some rest. It must be around six when he wipes his cheek once more, still damaged from the vision of those broken, perfect blue eyes.

“Do you want to take a shower? A bath?” he asks, desperate to do anything that might bring back a hint of smile on this haunted face, “I can run you a bath.”

“No… Shower? Maybe.”

“Yeah?” Chris smiles lightly.

“You’d take it with me?”

“Sure, if you want me.”

Chris’ hand wanders higher on his back until it reaches Sebastian’s neck, Sebastian reduce the distance between them, kissing his lips shyly. They haven’t even kissed that much since Chris found him laying on the floor in a puddle of tears but it always feels so timid when Sebastian find his mouth now. When Chris kisses him, he tries to be tender and gentle, but in both case it’s reserved and retained, that’s soft love and it’s unusual. Even when it’s gentle it’s more passionate than this between them normally, Chris is just not used to it and he’s sure he’s failing somewhere.

Chris gets out the bed first then he gives Sebastian his hand to lead him to the bathroom. They’re both still wearing the same underwear than two days ago and none of them has properly slept, ate nor taken a shower since the same amount of time.

Chris doesn’t bother closing the door behind him and he gets undressed before noticing Sebastian isn’t doing the same. He’s not even looking at him. He’s by the sink, staring at it, leaning on it. Chris approaches slowly, cautiously, letting his hand fall on Sebastian’s hip, kissing his shoulder. When he tries to help him get undressed, Sebastian tenses. Chris sees it instantly, he let go of the fabric he’s holding between his fingers.

“I can’t,” Sebastian says in a crushing murmur. “I –I’m sorry, I –I,”

“It’s okay,” Chris cuts him fast, reassuring, “it’s okay. I’ll leave you alone,” he says.

It kind of hurts but he doesn’t let it show through. His hands aren’t as familiar and comforting as he’d wish them to be. Even though they’ve been seeing each other for quite a moment now, at least it is a moment considering Chris’ past relationships, near a record, Sebastian isn’t at ease in his hands and Chris tries to not take it personally.

“Take all the time you need, I’ll be by the kitchen if you need me, okay?” He tells him, not kissing any part of his body this time. He takes off his arm around his waist too, softly but fast enough. Careful.

“I just can’t –you looking at me, I –I,” Sebastian panics, “naked, with the pictures I can’t, I can’t–”

Chris holds him by the waist again, unable to stop himself. “You don’t need to explain. I understand, it’s okay. It’s okay, shh.” Sebastian reaches for his arm around his waist, squeezing hard. Chris glances at the mirror in front of him, sees Sebastian eyes closed, biting at his lower lip. Holding back his words and fears.

“Tell me if you need anything,” Chris says, slowly letting his arm fall away again. Sebastian doesn’t move, doesn’t answer, just a slight nod Chris isn’t sure is a sort of response. He walks away, closes the door behind him and waits a moment by the door. Needing to be sure he’s not crying too much. Needing to hear the water on.

He doesn’t, at least not before a handful of minutes and Chris decides to move toward the kitchen, just grabbing a pair of clean briefs on his way. He tries to find something in his fridge that might fill his stomach for a while. He eventually finds something appetizing enough when he finally hears the shower on.

He sits by the bar, a fork in one hand and his phone in the other. Just checking while Sebastian isn’t here. Nothing really new, Chris hesitates before he decides to look through what people are saying about it. He doesn’t want to see the pictures, absolutely doesn’t want to see them or he fears he might punch a hole in the wall. But sick need and twisted curiosity, protectiveness hot in his chest makes him click the icon.

What he learns through his cautious search is that Sebastian isn’t the only one who’s picture has been stolen and leaked online, that he knew from the headline he sees as bright as day in his memory. But he learns than some apparently have it worse which is shamefully reassuring but more importantly he reads that pictures are still being published pretty much everywhere. And the list of celebrities is getting longer and longer, and Chris starts seething again.

He doesn’t know who did this and why, how they even got access to those pictures but they aren’t anything close to human. Chris doesn’t even know how many pictures of Sebastian are online but if more are coming, he’s gonna kill someone. It will destroy Sebastian even more than the wreck he is right now, ashamed of himself and disgusted and just so sad. If he catches that guy, God help him because he won’t make it through another day.

He reads headlines, comments, blogs, posts.

Finally drops his phone on the counter after a few minutes, tired of reading such bullshit. He can’t stand one more “they had it coming, they shouldn’t have taken the pictures to begin with.” He swears if he ever hears someone saying this next to him, they’d better pray to make it to the hospital in time because he’s gonna make a massacre. A real bloodbath. Jesus, how can anyone seriously say that, it’s a person they’re talking about. How would they feel if the world was mocking their secrets?

He’s not even hungry anymore and he drops the fork as well. He sighs, his phone buzzes, catching his attention. Another mail. He doesn’t bother opening it nor read the name of the sender. He gets up, walks by the sink, kneels and grabs the bottle of whisky he hides there. Last time he opened it, that’s because he had one drink with Jeremy. Just one. He intends to do the same here. Just one.

He leans against the bar, sipping his glass faster than he wanted. Pours a second one. He puts the bottle back under the sink, keeping the temptation out of sight. He wanders through the apartment, glass in hand. Looking by the window he can see a few paparazzi, seems like they slept here or at least came back early. He’d like to throw the glass at them, but on their opposite, he knows how to behave. He looks a little longer, scanning the faces, demons sitting comfortably on his shoulder to watch with him.

The second glass is gone and Sebastian is still under the stream of water and Chris fights the temptation. Fight it hard. He fills his glass with water and the demons laugh. He could tell them to shut up, but he’s tried that many times, they never listen. Sebastian has been in the bathroom for probably a little less than two hours now and the idea he might just be sitting there crying over himself is enough for Chris to pour himself a third drink. He takes a first sip and his phone rings, a call, Jeremy.

“Yeah?” Chris asks a bit too harshly.

“Am I waking you up?”

Chris laughs bitterly, “barely slept last night.” He stares at his drink, beverage whirling in the glass as he plays with it.

“How is he holding on?”

Chris takes a sip. “Not great.”

“How are you holding on?”

He looks all around him, stares at the imaginary demons dancing on the counter. He listens to the overwhelming silence suffocating the loft. “Third drink as we speak, how does that sound?”

“Beer?”

“Whisky.”

“Sounds bad to me.” Jeremy’s interrupted by someone and Chris waits, impatient he drinks again. Jeremy comes back to him, “It’s not even ten in the morning, Chris. Don’t make me send Scarlett over to whoop your ass.” Jeremy tries to laugh, to make Chris laughs but even Scarlett isn’t enough of a threat to make Chris think twice about his habit creeping back. Slowly, but oh so surely.

Old, comforting friend.

“D’you think we need to worry about those new pictures?” Chris asks, genuinely interested. That might or might not determine his future. Jail, or no jail time, that’s the question running through his mind and spinning in his drink.

“Only Seb can tell us,” Jeremy sighs, “I know it’s a lot for him but if he could call me soon, it’d really help.”

He hears the shower turning off and Chris looks directly at the door. “Gotta go,” he tells Jeremy.

“Tell him to give me a call,” Jeremy repeats.

Chris answers rapidly, hanging up and drinking the rest of his drink fast. He rinses the glass, leaves it near the sink, he also grabs the plate he left on the counter and puts the leftovers in a box he puts in the fridge.

He’s cleaning the plate when he hears the door opening behind him. He looks in the direction of the sound, Sebastian wrapped in a towel stepping out of the bathroom. He walks towards the sleeping space and wardrobe, grabs new underwear and Chris watches him as he also takes one of his shirts. Way too big for him, but Sebastian always loved wearing them. There’s just his necklace hanging off his neck.

Sebastian walks back to the bathroom silently. Closing the door. Chris just goes back to the dishes and waits two more minutes before Sebastian steps out again. He’s wearing Chris’ shirt, covering him to his thighs. He wants to smile at his choice, intentional or not he chose the shirt Chris wore the night of the concert.

Chris is now standing by the counter and Sebastian walks up to him, snuggling in his big arms instantly. Chris opens them to invite him closer; he holds him not lower than his waist and kisses his temple. He smells so good.

“Jeremy called,” Chris says, “when you were in the shower.” Sebastian looks up to him, intrigued. He’s face is perfectly clean, babyish skin still so tired but no puffy eyes or swollen lips. Chris runs a hand trough the side of wet hair, above his ear. “He said you should call him.”

“Oh,” Sebastian says, and it’s a mix between surprise and relief and worry. An odd combination of feelings, but Chris tries to not react to it.

“I can call him with you, or you can call him while I’m the shower. Or tomorrow. Or whenever you want,” he says, scanning Sebastian’s face and expression. “Or just not at all, I’ll make up excuses. Your choice.”

After all, it’s not like Jeremy isn’t used to not hear from Chris again when he tells him to call him back.

Sebastian nods, taking all the information and options into account. “I need to think about it,” he says. “You can take your shower now, if you want.”

Chris looks at him before nodding too, he holds him just a little longer. Appreciating the hug deeply, needing one right now. He reluctantly leaves him, and Sebastian sits on his stool. Chris reminds him to eat something before he closes the bathroom door behind him and isolate himself.

He takes a deep, deep breath.

He gets undressed, gets into the shower fast. The water falling on the top of his head, drops rolling on his cheeks and over all his body and he wonders if Sebastian caught the scent of whisky, wonders if he noticed anything.

He also wonders how long Sebastian cried in the shower while Chris was drinking in the other room. He gets flashes and memories, reminiscences of last morning. He knows about the people waiting down the building and this gigantic hurricane spinning Sebastian’s head around and it hurts him.

Chris tries to fight his inner demons but the taste of whisky lingers in his mouth and he hates himself. They won, again. They always do no matter what he tries. He hates everything, so much he starts to cry. Sobbing mutely, fearing Sebastian might hear him. He pinches his lips together, sniffles quietly.

He leans against the wall, his hand pressing against his eyes, rubbing back and forth. It’s too much for him to handle, he’s trying to be strong but how can he when Sebastian’s completely broken inside and he has no idea how to fix him. Sebastian’s refusing to let Chris see him. Doesn’t want his hands to touch him. He’s failing somewhere, everywhere, at everything. Something’s wrong, he’s not strong enough.

He cries, and cries. Quietly. Silently. Seeping tears like a broken tap now that he can. Hidden. Alone.

He sniffles loudly, one last time, lips trembling as he exhales, wiping away his tears. He takes a long breath, grabs the shower gel, washes himself and washes his hair. Tries to wash his thoughts but they’re covered of grime like he faced the apocalypse and that’s pretty much true. Fighting and resisting his demons is as tiring. His head is hot and hurts. He doesn’t draw it out for too long, he’s weary and drained. He grasps a hot towel when steps out of the shower, one resting on the heated towel rail.

He dries himself, rubs his head to dry his hair. Puts his underwear back on and look at his face in the mirror. He looks awful but he doesn’t care, he just wants to make sure Sebastian won’t be able to tell he’s been crying. He brushes his teeth, spitting the water in the sink; he wipes his mouth and put the towel back where he found it.

He sees his face again inadvertently, looking without watching and a song is playing in the back of his head like a mocking chant but so relevant. He hopes it leaves him as he steps out of the bathroom, but that little boy inside is humming the melody innocently. Please don’t take my sunshine away...

He steps out but the little boy doesn’t stop singing. A melodic shadow following each step he makes. A burden around his ankle he drags on his way. Sebastian’s lying in bed, legs folded and back against the wall, looking at the TV with a mug resting on his knees. Chris joins him. Putting his mug away Sebastian sneaks in Chris’ arms, just like he always does but Chris is more than glad this time. He needs to hold him, needs him in his arms to reassure him everything isn’t as bad as he’s thinking.

Chris breathes through his hair and the odour of fruity shampoo sweetly tickles his nose; the natural scent of his body is a perfect mix between Chris’ odour and the heat of the blankets and Sebastian smells like home right now, so Chris breathes deeper. He carries every last scent to his lungs. Fake happiness filling his raising chest where Sebastian’s head lays. He tricks himself, innocent lie allowing him to forget for a minute.

Chris kisses his forehead as Sebastian’s fingers find his to lace them together before abandoning them to shift to his waist, lightly travelling along the curves of his hip. That agreeable touch, almost tickling but not just yet, teasing and tempting while remaining innocent. The palm of Chris’ hand finds his cheek, hot and flat, pulling him closer to meet his lips.

It’s hesitant but Chris tries to not let it be apparent. Sebastian kisses back, softly, shyly, pulls back to rest his head on Chris’ chest again. Too short of a moment, intimacy not rhyming with familiarity anymore. That’s when the lie stops and Chris gets back to his thoughts.

After a few minutes Chris hears the sound of Sebastian’s voice, “do you think we can call Jeremy now?” he asks, as he leans on his forearm to look at Chris.

“You want to?” Chris’ hand brushes Sebastian’s cheek.

“You’ll stay with me?”

“Of course,” he answers. He’s actually more comfortable in hearing what Jeremy has to discuss. Chris adds, “We can put him on speaker if you want,” and by ‘if you want’ he means he’s the one wanting to. Sebastian nods.

“Hold on,” Chris says as he gets up and goes to grab his phone. He gets back to bed where Sebastian is now sitting cross-legged, adorable wrapped in his shirt. Chris sits right next to him, half hiding against his back. He hands his phone to Sebastian who looks at him before calling Jeremy. Chris puts his finger above the speaker button and Sebastian nods again, so Chris activates the option. Relieved.

It rings twice before Jeremy picks up; at the sound of his voice Sebastian tenses, looking back at Chris, eyes panicking.

“Hey, Jeremy, uh, Seb’s with me,” Chris speaks for him. He looks at Sebastian and grabs his hand, moving closer to him. “You’re on speaker, so whatever you wanted to discuss...”

“Oh hi, yeah, Seb I’m really sorry, I can’t even imagine what you’re going through.” Chris squeezes Sebastian’s hand as the tears seems to come up again with just a few words bringing back to the painful reality once more. “Listen, I’m really sorry to ask you this but have you seen the pictures?”

He looks at Chris and then looks away, guilty, “I did.”

He probably stared at them for a while, trying to cry silently as Chris was sound asleep. That angers him. It probably haunts him like the couple that Chris has seen are haunting him. Chris realises suddenly he doesn’t know how many are out there, that wasn’t mentioned in his research. Not that he needs to know, he’s better off not knowing.

“Do you know if there’s more? I’m trying to contact Anthony or his agent but I haven’t been able to so far. Sorry to be so intrusive but that’s important.”

“Uh,” Sebastian clears his throat, still avoiding Chris’ eyes, “I’d say there’s maybe a couple missing.”

It comes to Chris then, the idea that more than his privacy exposed, Sebastian might be haunted by his past as well. By this relationship he knows almost nothing about. Sebastian was smiling in the two pictures, he was feeling safe. It was once his bed, like Chris’ is his now. He had privacy and a connection, a link; Anthony might have been as much of a protection to Sebastian as Chris is. Maybe he was as deep in love as Chris is. Maybe that’s why Sebastian can’t stand his hands on him, because he thought he was safe in Anthony’s.

“Okay,” Jeremy says over the phone, not judging, tone between flat and apologetic; staying professional. “Okay. How are you though? Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m... okay. I’m with Chris,” he says but doesn’t dare risk looking at him yet.

“Yeah, he told me. It’s maybe better if you stay with him. Try to avoid talking to the press or using social media, for now at least. Paparazzi if you can, too.”

“There’s a few staying in front of the building,” Chris says, trying to help, glancing from Sebastian to the phone and back to Sebastian.

“Then try to avoid stepping out, I can send someone over if you guys need anything,” Jeremy tells him but it doesn’t seem to be any comfort. “I know it sounds scary and all but it’s what’s best for you. I’m not forcing you to stay cloistered, that’s just my advice.”

“Thanks,” Sebastian says, finally looking back at Chris whose lips are leaving a kiss on his shoulder.

“That was just the manager talking, I’m back to being your friend now. Seriously how are you holding on?”

Sebastian’s lips starts quivering just a bit, his mouth hanging open without words to be pronounced, starting to feel overwhelmed. Chris puts his arm instinctively around his waist and Sebastian grabs his hand as fast. “I’m okay,” he tells Jeremy but the wobble in his voice is painful and heart-breaking to hear and Chris’ heart jumps in his chest.

“I’m so sorry buddy, it’s a tough time right now but I promise you it’ll get better soon. If you need anything just call me okay? Whether you need your manager or your friend I’ll pick up.”

Sebastian looks at Chris and Chris answers for him. “Thanks,” he says to Jeremy because Sebastian’s done speaking. He’s done talking. He sticks his forehead to Sebastian’s temple, giving a tiny nod with his nose, looking at him tenderly.

“I’ll tell Scarlett I had you over the phone, she’s worrying too.” A few voices are talking in the background and Jeremy seems to answer them while Sebastian sticks his nose to Chris’. Chris rubbing from left to right ever so slowly before leaving a kiss on his forehead. “I’m sorry, I got to go I’m in the middle of a meeting. I’m taking care of everything so you just hold on, okay? And Chris? Take care of him. Bye guys.”

Jeremy barely waits for them to say goodbye before he hangs up.

“Are you okay?” Chris asks softly, seeing Sebastian’s teary eyes again. Sebastian nods, makes a strangled noise of acquiescence that’s everything but an agreement. He lies back on the bed, Chris looking down at him, his fingers lightly wandering above his shirt.

A tear escapes his eye and another distressed noise his lips, Sebastian inhales abruptly. “I think I need a hug,” he tells Chris before he cries again.

It escapes Chris as easily as the tear from Sebastian’s eye. “Baby,” he says, heartbroken as he lies next to him, leaning on his forearm. Sebastian moves closer to him, trying to hide his face against his arm. Chris kisses his cheek, his lips, his cheek again, brushes his hair back behind his ear. “You need to sleep, you’re exhausted,” he tells Sebastian with his fingers travelling over his face.

He nods, sniffling. Chris kisses his cheek again and listens to him whimpering, his heart barely holding it together as he gets up to close the curtains near the bed. He comes back fast, and they eventually fall asleep together for a while.

Chris wakes up with no idea of how long he slept or what time it is. He’s been disconnected from a normal living pattern for the last three days. He glances over at the clock, it’s almost six in the morning. He’s wide awake already and won’t even bother to try and get back to sleep. He’s had a full night considering when they got to bed.

He looks at Sebastian sleeping right next to him. Peaceful, for once. So calm, so quiet, so beautiful; Chris smiles softly. Still so stunned by his beauty, he’s so damn attractive. He can’t get tired of watching him, sunlit of morning dew, light and soft coming through the windows of the room lighting the gold of his skin.

Chris stays in the bed, lazy and comfortable, the perfect warmth emanating from Sebastian’s body feels just right. With Sebastian relaxed, asleep, Chris forgets for an instant. To worry, to be angry, no flash, no noise, his brain as quiet as the room. Sebastian’s serene face close to his. A glimpse of their personal heaven back again. Where everything is easy and simple, just love. He misses that, when it was just the two of them and nothing to worry about.

Chris finally decides to get out of bed after some time, drinks a cup of coffee as he opens the curtains slightly to take a look outside and see there are still some paparazzi waiting. It irritates him. They really don’t have anything more important to do, are they taking turns? Chris then grabs his laptop before sitting at his favourite spot, next to bedroom window, on his nest-like bench.

He skims through his texts, answers both his best friends in priority, Scarlett too. He ignores almost everyone else, then he takes a moment to read about the critics on Existential Chrisis first part of their world tour. They’re pretty good but he can’t escape it, his name is connected to Sebastian’s and everywhere he clicks it mentions the leaked pictures. This is nauseating. The titles of articles he can see, they’re making him sick.

Closing the laptop, Chris looks outside again, just a peek and he sighs. Movements in the bed, Chris looks at Sebastian waking up. Mumbling his name adorably, Chris joins him, crawling under the blankets.

“Hey,” Chris says with a tender smile. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Sebastian say and smiles back, face buried in the pillow, an arm nestled under it.

He’s so adorable, sleepy face and bright smile, messy hair, baby blue eyes glowing again. Just himself. Happy like he’s forgotten about everything. He snuggles in Chris’ arms but merrily this time, steals a kiss at his lips, a long but chaste one. Sebastian leaves the bed by his own choice, goes to the kitchen to eat something and Chris watches him, surprised but not unhappy.

While he seems to get himself a real breakfast, Chris rejoice, sitting by the piano, playing a few notes that catches Sebastian’s attention.

He plays then while Sebastian looks at him with an adorable grin, eating cereal from his bowl. Chris lets his whole soul out, pours his heart and love in every touch of his fingertips against the keys. It’s light, sweet, a simple melody, all cute just like Sebastian right now. He’s looking at him through his eyelashes, pink tinted cheeks and plump lips. Adorable, there is no other word; his morning sleepy face and his mouth full, his messy hair and those sparkling eyes. He’s beautiful and he’s making Chris forget his anger as well.

Ghosts of happiness dancing on the piano.

Chris smiles as he watches and hears Sebastian crunching. Jaw contracting, cheekbones appearing, emphasising the geometrical perfection of his face. He’s smiling too. His spoon is lying abandoned in his bowl now, and he walks up to Chris, his fingers flying between his shoulder blades when he finds himself against his back. As light and soft as feathers full of electrifying elegance. He leans in, burying his nose in Chris’ neck, embracing him with one of his arm and locking it with the other one.

Trapped in the kindness and simplicity of his tiny frame, Chris melts.

He closes his eyes, just a couple seconds but it’s enough; inner peace, serenity. Sebastian’s heart beating against his back and echoing in his whole body. The light tickle of his breath hitting his skin, the warmth of his cheek sticking to his flesh. The delicateness of his lips pressing a light kiss, barely entering in contact with his neck.

Sebastian tightens his hug and Chris’ smile falls, drops off his lips all of sudden. Sebastian’s still sad, still miserable, he’s just hiding it but his hug can’t lie. He needs Chris’ presence. He can hide against his back as much as he wants, but sadness is what’s beating in his chest and echoing on Chris’ back.

His music is appeasing him, soothing the storm agitating his mind but it’s not enough, he needs complicity, needs to know Chris still love him despite what he’s putting him through and it’s like a punch in the chest. Of course he should have suspected it; it’s just seeing Sebastian smiling again blinded him. Guess he isn’t the only good liar around anymore.

Sebastian learnt from the best after all.

His hands stops playing and he reaches for Sebastian’s arm around his neck, pulls his hand to mouth to kiss his fingers lovingly with a light stroke of his thumb on the back of it. Sebastian caresses his hair, fingertips landing on the back of his neck where the bones shape a small bump. It’s tender and quiet and Chris could almost forget again; but he doesn’t.

Chris still has Sebastian’s hand in his when Sebastian turns around him, so light on his feet it’s nearly dancing, twirling softly, gracefully. He sits on one of Chris’ thighs, his back fitting perfectly against Chris’ chest and Chris wraps his tiny frame of his arms to access the keyboard again. Sebastian’s fingers join his, pressing the keys ever so lightly. He’s hesitant at first, hitting the high notes cautiously, like he’s not sure what to play.

But Chris keeps his hands free, they hop and slide and press keys and Sebastian relaxes. He adds his touch, adds his words to the untold story. Chris’ chin rests on his shoulder and their hands flies and dances beautifully together. Softly. Melody of broken hearts, desperately trying to fix each other’s.

Eventually Sebastian’s fingers find Chris’ on one part of the keyboard, his thin long fingers brushing Chris’ rough ones. He brushes the knuckles, explores the length of the hands that worships him in many way, lacing them together. Warm and sullied innocence settling above violent but loving hands.

Sebastian rest against him, head falling against his cheek. Chris wraps him with one of his forearm as his other hand stays on the piano, still holding Sebastian’s hand. He leaves a kiss against the bare skin of his shoulder, then a second one, and a third, trailing loving pecks all along until Sebastian purrs when he reaches his neck.

He gives tiny nods, cat-like, letting himself fall completely against Chris. Purring more audibly, humming a discreet pleasure. Chris keeps nuzzling his neck and shoulders, leaves just one kiss on the back of his jaw, near Sebastian’s ear. He seems so frail, so tiny, so breakable, so vulnerable and open to him.

Chris puts his hand away, liberates it from Sebastian’s hold and with one hand on his side and the other falling under his knees he picks him up as he stands up on both feet. Sebastian wraps his arms around Chris’ neck, head pressed against his chest, he lets Chris carry him to their bed. He’s so light in his arms, weighs nothing at all, not more than a heart full of love in a fragile envelop of flesh.

Chris doesn’t just lay him on the bed, he climbs both knees on the mattress to put Sebastian in the centre of it. He doesn’t move away, let his hands linger on him as Sebastian instinctively pulls him into a kiss, cradling his cheeks. It’s not rough or desperate, quite the opposite actually; all sweet, slow, lazy. Just lips against lips, lips between lips. His fingers wanders through Chris’ hair and Chris’ hand moves up his side, brushing rib after rib until he roam over his chest to reach his neck.

“Are you okay with this?” Chris asks slowly, lowly, “me touching you?”

Sebastian stares, eyes gleaming like a lake under the silver moonlight, shining in many shades of soft light. Love reflecting in the watering sparks. “I love you,” he breathes back.

Chris gives a slow hit of his nose, rubbing it against Sebastian’s. “I know that,” he says, that’s not what he wants to know. “Do you want this?” he asks again, firm hand around Sebastian’s neck, thumb brushing his chin and lips.

Sebastian doesn’t move or answer, respond in any kind of way for a few seconds; seems overwhelmed in a new sort of way Chris has never witnessed before. He stares and his eyes screams fear and trust and love and apprehension, the argument inside his mind must be horrible. Chris strokes his cheek again, thumb worshipping the beauty of his skin, so smooth. He waits, patiently, for any answer.

Sebastian tilts his head, gets more comfortable against the pillow, a quick, almost unnoticeable smile curves on the corner of his lips as Chris pushes a strand of hair back behind his ear. He nods, lightly, another smile draws itself, sadder. “Can we just... close all the curtains? Please.”

There’s something inside Chris that breaks, that’s not his heart, it broke a hundred times this past few days, he’d recognize it, it’s something else. He can’t tell for sure, maybe what’s left of his innocence; maybe that’s something completely different but it breaks and it leaves him empty at the request.

“Sure,” he answers softly. His eyes must scream sadness right now because that’s exactly what he feels like. Pain and sadness, it hurts him to hear him ask such thing. Sebastian’s never been shy, not in that way at least. Knowing he’s hurt to the point it’s impossible for him to let Chris see him, it saddens him.

He leaves a kiss on the tip of his nose and Sebastian doesn’t hold him back when gets up to close the curtains. He closes them all. The only lights in the room are the ones coming from electronic devices and the trailing sockets and it’s barely enough to see and find the path to the bed again. He manages to find it anyway and Sebastian hasn’t moved at all so Chris lies back next to him.

“Dark enough?” he asks but he’s not even sure he wants to do it anymore. He’s about to argue with himself but Sebastian finds his mouth and the kiss is more passionate than the first one. It’s still far from being eager but it’s loving, Sebastian parting his lips to let Chris slip his tongue inside. Gently dancing around, caressing, closing his mouth to open it again. Again. And again and it feels so good to play with him again.

Chris makes it last, draws out the pleasure. He lets Sebastian choose what to do and when to do it; he chooses to undress him first and Chris lets him slide his briefs along his thighs and legs. He lets one of his hand wander on Sebastian’s chest but not lower, caressing and ghosting over every inch of skin; lingering on his nipples. He never paid too much attention to them before but Sebastian lets a moan escape him as he lingers on one of them. So hard under his fingertip, he leaves Sebastian’s mouth and trails his own on his chest until he catches one between his lips.

Sebastian stretches, moves higher on the bed so it’s easier for Chris, and his hand drops to Chris’ lower back, stroking up and down lightly. Absently. Chris kisses the erected skin, hard once caught between his lips. He kisses, sucks lightly and draws the round lines. He mouths over it, licks and circles around while Sebastian squirms a bit. Contented humming up in his throat, high in Chris’ ear. Chris plays until Sebastian’s fingernails delicately scratches his back, subtly but enough to be felt. He mouths a few kisses before he drops pecks on his chest, fingers flying on his side again.

Sebastian pushes his hand away, lower, slowly and Chris obeys, he slips his thumb under the aim of his underwear and pulls it down. Chris finds his mouth again and melts in new loving kisses; Sebastian rolls on his side to let Chris slide it under his butt then he rolls on his back again and lightly lifts his hips so Chris can let it pass and move it down to his knees. Sebastian kicks it off then and Chris smiles against his mouth.

He drops his hand on Sebastian’s thigh and Sebastian tenses a bit, Chris can feel his muscles contracting before he relaxes slightly, not fully. This doesn’t seem like a good thing and he pulls away ready to ask again if Sebastian’s sure but Sebastian doesn’t give him the chance to, he follows his lips and doesn’t let him break the kiss. Grips at his hair and pulls Chris closer.

He finds a way to part slightly from his lips, just to whisper. “You really want this?”

Sebastian hums against his lips, kissing him again. And so Chris decides to make it as romantic as he can, that’s the least he can do. He pulls away again, Sebastian whining as he does. “Do you want me to light candles?” he asks, barely able to discern Sebastian’s face in the dark, “or I can play some music?”

“No I’m fine I just –I just want you,” Sebastian answers like he’s upset Chris keeps interrupting everything. “Please? Just you, I don’t want anything else, just you.”

“Okay,” Chris murmurs caringly, “okay.”

He brushes the top of his head, running his fingers through his hair. Sebastian’s trying to make him shut up and just be present and he can do that. He can be silent and just present if that’s what he needs. He can be two parted lips sliding down his neck and a tongue in his mouth. He can be firm, hands possessive and devoted. He can love every inch of Sebastian’s body blindly, rediscover every of his curves and the smoothness of his skin. The thinness and sharpness of his hipbones and the hair on his thighs and legs under the palm of his hand.

He can hear every vibration in his throat as he moans, and feel every beat of his heart in his ribcage. He can sense every muscle under his wandering fingertips and discover a new taste at his flesh. He can smell his scent and kiss him. He can feel the air escaping his nostrils and mouth warming up his own skin. He can be present and loving, just silent but there.

And Sebastian holds on him. Chris gets chills when Sebastian shudders under him. He takes a deep breath when Sebastian clears out his lungs. He bites his lip when Sebastian squirms. He kisses his neck when Sebastian calls his name. Kisses under his chin when Sebastian whimpers. Kisses his collarbone when he’s got two fingers working him open and Sebastian’s fingers sink in his shoulder.

He kisses him again, right on the lips, when he slides inside him. And again when Sebastian wraps his legs around his torso and grasps his shoulders like he needs to touch him desperately. Chris goes slow, leisurely, with his lips and with his hips. Sometimes it’s so slow Chris just stops, and only kisses him. Not once does he says a word, and Sebastian doesn’t either. It’s completely silent. Love in the dark but oddly it’s never felt clearer. Loving has never been easier. Everything is easier.

He just hears, and feels, and touches. He stops and starts again, and slows down and hold Sebastian tiny in his arms. Lying on the mattress under him, and Chris is under the sheets, like a cocoon, a protection. It goes on for a while and sometimes Chris wipes a tear with the tip of his nose, sometimes with his lips. But Sebastian doesn’t say anything, neither does he when Sebastian quietly sniffles and weeps. He just leaves another round of kisses everywhere he can access because Sebastian is clinging on his shoulders and doesn’t want to let go.

Chris pulls out and then moves inside him again, dropping kisses all the way up to his neck, following the bone of his jaw to mouth over his chin. Sebastian moans in a breath, a long exhale, intense and profound; arms tightening around his shoulders. Chris gets the hint, increase his pace, goes a bit faster and Sebastian moans again, longer, more audible, whimpers as he tries to bury his face in the crook of Chris’ neck. Chris bites his lower lip, moves his arms slightly so his balance is better.

“Chris,” Sebastian calls absently before he starts to gasp for air, head resting against his shoulder. “Chris,” he calls again because it’s not moans it’s a call. He needs the sound of his voice now.

“I’m here,” Chris takes upon him to say, holding back the pleasure waving inside him. “I’m right here,” he drops a kiss on Sebastian’s cheek, thrusting in and out faster.

Sebastian squirms and whines, muscles contracting and hips jerking up lightly; his cock so hard against Chris’ stomach. “Chris,” he repeats again, head falling on the pillow. Chris tries to shush him, appease him, letting his mouth land against his, with his hand sneaking to fit against his neck to reassure him that he’s right here with him.

“I need you,” Sebastian murmurs in his mouth, sharp cry before he pulls him closer. “I need you,” he repeats as wretchedly.

“You’ve got me,” Chris answers fast. “You’ve got me baby, you’ve got me.” Hips rolling and knees sinking in the mattress he covers his mouth with his lips, quieting his gasps. Sebastian’s hand drops on his muscular arm, grasps his forearm resting against his chest.

Sebastian moans in his mouth, yanking his hips up rapidly, trying to get a friction from their two bodies together, his aching cock trapped in between. Sebastian moans loudly when Chris hits a particular spot, and again, that sweet, sweet sound loud in the silent room. Chris keeps going until Sebastian’s left panting, calling his name.

He can feel his cock twitch between them and from the tip of Sebastian’s lips on his, he hears the orgasm spilling against his chest. His whole body contracts and the hotness around Chris’ erection tightens and it feels too good. He thrusts a handful more times, bites his bottom lip and presses his forehead against Sebastian’s mouth. He grunts, his own body tensing, Sebastian kissing his face, fingertips lightly flying over his back.

Chris relaxes, drops a kiss on Sebastian’s lips and falls on his side. He pulls Sebastian close instantly. He can’t see shit but he can hear everything, from Sebastian breathing to him sniffling, wet tears rolling on his skin. Chris cards a hand through his hair, kisses his forehead, “Okay?”

Sebastian snuggles closer, his arm on his chest, fingers playing on it. He nods, nuzzling his soaked cheek against Chris’ sticky chest.

Chris holds him like this, in the silence, in the dark. He doesn’t ask anything else, just squeezes Sebastian closer when he hears him sobbing quietly. Breath in his hair, strands lightly tickling his nose and getting caught in his beard.

“Chris?”

It’s barely audible and Chris can hear the apprehension in his voice but he’s falling asleep and he can’t answer anything than a “hmm?”

“Thank you.”

That wakes him up, slightly, pulls him out of the slumber. He really wants to ask what for but he’s not sure he wants to know, he’s not sure Sebastian wants to specify either. It can be thank you for not leaving, thank you for understanding, thank you for loving me. It can be anything and everything and it doesn’t matter. He goes to kiss his forehead and Sebastian catches his lips instead. A short, tender kiss before he climbs on him and straddle his thighs ever so lightly.

Chris dissolves in the mattress, Sebastian’s hand roaming over his chest. Touching, feeling every curve of his body, every details. His pectoral muscles, solid under his subtle touch, his shoulders, so strong; hefty frame under delicate hands. He’s following the humps of his stomach, every one of his muscle, discovering his body again. Chris lets him, eyes closed, adoring his caresses. Sebastian’s hands finds his neck, warm and soft, he bends over to press a kiss on his mouth.

“I can’t believe you’re real,” Sebastian whispers against his lips.

Chris doesn’t smile, even though a small part of him wants to. “I love you,” he murmurs instead. It’s light, everything is so light, Sebastian above him, the silence, the peace the darkness of the room carries. The words; it’s simple and light. Sebastian lays on him and Chris wraps his arms around him, hands wandering on his thighs and back, purposeless. Soft and warm strokes from the palm of his hands; tip of his nose exploring his neck and shoulder.

It’s sweet, calm, perfect.

Chris feels both trapped and free at the same time. Everything around him so real it becomes unreal. Sebastian’s touch is light and everything is back into place. Sebastian’s smiling against his skin, he can feel it, he can hear it in his whispers. The bed in the darkness of the room feels infinite. No edge, no end. He could sink in the mattress it wouldn’t even surprise him. He could float in the night sky, in the middle of the ocean under a meteor shower it would be peace and serenity. Incessant quietude and stillness in his chest.

They don’t leave the bed for a single second all day, just cuddling and loving each other in silence until someone rings at the door in the late afternoon.


	6. I can hear the ghost calling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from "hold my hand" which is an amazing song that could sum up Chris' state of mind in this chapter, I think.
> 
> And there's still a [photoset](http://beardhenleysandfingers.tumblr.com/post/129739448875/an-evanstan-singers-au-by-superanarchy-chris/) on tumblr for this fic :3

The sound of the doorbell tolls in Chris’ ears, knelling as a threat, a warning. He doesn’t want to move, Chris really doesn’t want to. He keeps holding Sebastian, ignoring the buzzing sound lasting in the silent, dark room. It’s just them right now, and it’s fine. It’s fine, Chris is free, serene, he doesn’t need a reminder that this isn’t heaven. That this isn’t his heaven yet. Let him hold onto this liberating illusion just a little more. Just a little longer. Sebastian’s head is resting on him, weighting lightly, so close, so calm. He’s so calm. If Chris moves he won’t be anymore. That peaceful sensation will fade away, reality will creep back in their little bubble and it’s not as sweet as this silence increasing the love beating in Chris’ chest.

And Chris isn’t expecting anyone anyway, he’s better off not answering. He’s fine with just holding Sebastian but Sebastian isn’t. Sebastian moves away, falls off his arms and Chris loses that touch tying him with this blissful fog of inner peace. It’s back to be just a dark and normal room, no more illusion of heaven. No more quietude, no more stillness. So Chris sighs before he resolves himself to open his eyes. The doorbell rings again and Chris yells to hold on as he gets out of the bed all of sudden, irritated already.

He grumbles to himself as he goes to open one of the curtains, the nearest one close to the bed, nearly hurting his foot on the way. The light of the late day blinds him aggressively after so long plunged in total darkness and he grumbles again, this time more audibly. Chris stumbles over the mess in the room, definitely hurting one of his toe against a furniture he curses at this time. He grabs clean underwear to put on and, noticing the dry come on his abdomen, Chris grunts out of annoyance as he walks toward the kitchen to try and wipe it.

Sebastian appears in his back then, underwear and jeans covering his skin already. The doorbell rings for the third time and Chris tries to not look too maddened by it but fails beautifully, unable to not clench his jaw and mutter through his teeth. Sebastian drops a kiss on his shoulder blade trying to appease him and he sticks himself against Chris’ back, arms encircling; beautiful, delicate hands and long fingers landing on his muscles; light and soft and sweet. Calm, still. The complete opposite of Chris.

Come has dried on his skin and hair and it’s a pain to scratch off, flesh turning red from the insistence of his -too short- nails. The same someone knocks at the door now and Chris is sure it’s mean to piss him off some more. Sebastian waits patiently against his back and Chris understands he has no attention in opening the damn door. Maybe Sebastian’s just scared to, not that there is any reason to be, Chris lives in a guarded building, not anybody can just come and go but still he gets why Sebastian might be reticent in opening it with the events of this past week.

Chris manages to get rid of the traces of their loving afternoon more or less efficiently before he walks to the door and, looking through the peephole, he sees two familiar faces in the hallway. Smiling. Gazing at each other. Chris sighs again and then hits his forehead against the reinforced door. He glances at Sebastian still standing in the kitchen, waiting, curious but not too much, not thrilled either. Chris snorts and shakes his head before opening that damn, heavy door to see two wide smiles.

He wants to kill them already.

“Don’t tell me you’re still sleeping past five in the afternoon,” Jeremy says as he makes a first step inside. He puts his hand on Chris’ shoulder, greeting him before he looks around, “smells awful in here.”

“He’s right,” Scarlett adds following his steps, Chris bends slightly to kiss her cheek. “Are you guys starting a vampire cult or something?” She asks. Husky voice, always so smooth in her mouth; so sexy to hear.

Scarlett moves to the kitchen and pulls Sebastian into a sincere hug before walking to the closed windows to open them and let the fresh wind of a lasting winter fill the room. Grimacing with hostile eyes, Chris watches her invading his place and destroying every last memory of that perfect afternoon one by one. Picking up clothes on the floor to put them on his nest-like bench, brushing the petals of some flowers Chris bought that probably need to be watered soon. Scarlett keeps walking around the room, opening every closed curtain and Chris takes on him to not say a thing. Not yet, not quite yet.

“Did you slaughter a sheep in here?” Jeremy asks again and _this_ is Chris’ limit.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you,” Chris starts as he joins Sebastian’s side, wrapping a protective but possessive arm around his waist, “but you know, people usually call before they show up at someone’s doorstep.”

“Well we figured you’d find an excuse if we called,” Jeremy grins, and Chris has to admit he knows him all too well. “And I know you can’t resist my charm,” Jeremy adds then stops to throw daring eyes at Scarlett who just snorted.

“Sorry,” Scarlett says, shaking her head and trying to sound apologetic but a smirk grows discreetly on the corner of her lips and betrays her. Jeremy ignores her and her cheekbones turning pink to focus back on Chris and Sebastian.

Chris would smile if he wasn’t a bit annoyed by their unannounced presence because their complicity is clearly adorable. They’re really endearing together and just made for each other. Chris loves them, he does, really, but right now just isn’t the greatest time ever and he wants to throw them out.

Sebastian moves closer to him and Chris holds him tighter reflexively. His skin is hot and soft from the hours spent in the bed, and he smells so enchantingly good Chris takes a deeper breathe, burying his nose in his hair.

Chris doesn’t want to share their time; the afternoon they shared was relaxing, without a thought and it felt great. Socializing isn’t Chris’ main preoccupation, he’d rather sneak back in bed without a light in the room, with Sebastian’s murmurs and soft purrs from the tickle of Chris’ wandering hands as solely noise. Chris doesn’t want to hear Jeremy talking and rambling and Scarlett judging and saying mountains of words with just her eyes. Because she’s good at that, and Chris is expecting the worst. 

Fresh air comes to meet and brush his skin and Chris gets chills, Sebastian shivers against him and his body hair rises, goosebumps adorably appearing on his bare shoulders and neck. Chris looks down and the shadow of grin slides fast on his lips when Sebastian glances up. Tired little eyes, sparkling bright. Jeremy clears his throat but Chris barely cares, barely hears, he peeks in front of him meanwhile Sebastian remains way too polite and focuses back on Jeremy.

Bed is calling them, calling Chris, unmade and welcoming, full of memory and reminiscence of this quiet and serene afternoon. Slim feeling of peacefulness still ghosting inside him, Chris sighs above Sebastian’s ear. He’d go back if Scarlett and Jeremy weren’t there but they are, and Chris doesn’t want to come off as rude so he, reluctantly, looks back Jeremy and let him finish to speak his mind as he starts thinking of a plan to throw them out when Jeremy’s done talking.

“We’re here to kidnap you,” Jeremy announces proudly and Chris cringes.

He’s not fond of the direction this conversation is taking. He waits for the explanation that should follow, or at least Chris expects a little bit more information than just those few words that seems so threatening to him suddenly. Sebastian doesn’t say anything either and Jeremy shakes his head, waiting for a word to be spoken but gives up at the silence that lasts too long, sighing.

“You guys are killing me,” Jeremy says, defeated and throwing his hands in the air. Then he gestures away as if Chris and Sebastian were annoying flies, “just get dressed.”

Chris looks over at Scarlett, eyebrows uprising and questioning. She’s usually more helpful than his manager, but this time looks like an exception. Of course, Chris should have expected it. “Oh,” she starts, “I’d do what he says if I were you, you know how stubborn he is.”

Yes, Chris knows. He knows just how useless and exhausting it is to get into an argument with one of them but with the two of them together, he gets a migraine from just imagining it. Chris doesn’t have the strength nor the motivation to do so, drained out by his glimpse of earlier heaven. He hits Sebastian’s hip lightly, transmitting the same message they’d be wasting their breath and time to fight back and they should just go along and do what they say. With a little luck it won’t be too long, maybe Jeremy just want them to go out and get some fresh air, go for walk, or just go hiking.

Chris could go hiking; a night out, sleep under the stars; space, silence and real fresh air, the perfect combination, it’d be like heaven but without the pillows and blankets. And with a little more clothes on. There he’d be happy to be kidnapped, but something’s telling Chris he’s the only one with this idea in the room. After all it’s more likely for them to go to Jeremy’s office than to go hiking.

Ugh.

He doesn’t want to go to Jeremy’s office. Chris wants to dismiss them, wants to grab them by their arms and drag them outside his loft and slam the door to their faces. Chris wants to climb back in bed and forget they even came in here and threatened to take them outside but Sebastian takes his hand and forces him to make a first step towards the bathroom, so Chris resigns. He looks over at the bed and the bed looks back, Chris wants to apologize but the bed is sad. Chris is sad too.

Scarlett sits on a stool next to the kitchen counter and Chris sees Jeremy glancing at the wrinkled sheets before exchanging a look with Scarlett. “They weren’t sleeping,” Jeremy says lowly to her, a hint of horror in his voice.

“No we weren’t,” Chris answers louder as he follows Sebastian’s steps. 

Sebastian’s already inside when Chris closes the door behind him. He turns back to see Sebastian’s looking at himself in the mirror, unreadable expression across his face. He still looks exhausted, drained but not worse than the past few days. Perhaps a little better. Chris slowly walks up to him, stops against his back and drops his chin on his shoulder as Sebastian stares at their reflexion in the mirror.

They do look like a couple and it’s both weird and enjoyable. Chris isn’t sure how to feel about this, truly, but it can’t be a bad thing, right? They look like what they are after all. Chris looks grossly in love, and he is. He looks annoyed, and he is. Sebastian looks tired, and he is, preoccupied too, maybe, but also ridiculously in love with this small smile growing on his lips when he crosses Chris’ gaze in the mirror.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” Chris asks softly from the tip of his lips, it’s not sad, just not ecstatic either. Maybe a little hopeful that their afternoon might have healed the shame Sebastian feels. “I can go back with them if you’re more comfortab–”

“No,” Sebastian answers, shaking his head lightly. Lifting his hand to brush Chris’ bearded cheek and turning to face Chris, Sebastian adds still with that little, adorable smile, “no, stay. Please?”

Chris looks away from Sebastian’s reflection in the mirror to look at his face close instead and he nods, smiles lovingly. It relieves Chris of a terrible weight to hear Sebastian ask him to stay, because that means maybe Chris is finally allowed to believe Sebastian is starting to feel better. Just a tiny bit better, that’s all Chris is asking for. He just want Sebastian to _start_ recovering. Doesn’t matter how long the process will take, Chris just want for Sebastian to _start_ healing. That’s it. Just the beginning of something.

And to make sure it _is_ indeed the beginning of something, Chris wants to try and see if he can stir up his mind. Pretending to kiss Sebastian’s lips, Chris moves to hiss ear instead and whispers playfully, “do you want me to wash you?”

Sebastian is biting his bottom lip when Chris looks back at him to see his reaction. That’s something they do often, or used to before. Taking showers together with roving hands and lathered bodies, which mostly always turns into kinky showers but Chris can also be just caring this time, if Sebastian wants that.

Chris can be soft and sweet and keep it in line with their afternoon. He wouldn’t mind a little of that blissful haze filling him up again and he wants to show Sebastian nothing has changed, he doesn’t think less of him, he desires him as much as before. Nothing will ever make Chris stop loving him and he wants to prove that to Sebastian. Light or dark, Sebastian is still handsome and desirable, still worthy of his love and time. Sebastian is still his everything and those pictures won’t change how Chris feels about him.

Chris isn’t good with words, which is highly surprising for a multi award winning lyricist but music is something else; something on its own right, it’s art and that’s not him speaking but his muse. He can hide behind it, hide his heart behind lyrics and use melody as a defence to protect his feeling. He’s one of those people who believe silent words carry the heaviest meanings, and that a gesture can tell so much more than words will ever be able to. He’s not good with words but he loves Sebastian and he can show him in many ways.

And so he does, undressing him and sneaking in the shower with him. Fingers exploring and hands loving. Sebastian’s bashful, always a little; usually it’s cute, just a slight inhibition but since this week it’s turned into hesitation, distance. Apprehension. And it’s not as cute.

Sebastian sticks himself to Chris, wanting to hide his body so Chris can feel it without seeing it and it’s sad. It makes Chris sad that his eyes seem to rekindle whatever fear Sebastian has within him when they were so close earlier, but Chris won’t discuss it. If Sebastian feels more comfortable like this for now, he can roll with it. Chris likes having him this close, he likes how tiny Sebastian is. How perfectly he fits against him and how minuscule he looks in his arms. Sebastian’s little and fragile while Chris is tall and built like a house, he likes that difference. Whether it’s been women or men in the past, Chris never cared much, but Sebastian makes him pay attention to the smallest details. And Sebastian is beautiful and perfect in all of the tiniest details.

Chris uses the soap on him, white foam appearing under his adoring and worshipping strokes. Sebastian’s purring and burying his face in Chris’ neck making him melt like the first layer of winter snow under a warm ray of sunshine. It’s not that same blissful fog than earlier filling Chris’ lungs, but it’s as good and he’d get high from this sensation everyday.

Chris washes everywhere; Sebastian’s chest, neck, his arms and forearms. His hands too, entwining their fingers together while he kisses his face and whispers sweet nothings in his ear. Chris’ hands wanders over Sebastian’s lower back and then his ass to finally land between his cheeks, making Sebastian voice his pleasure just a little louder. And it slowly grows more intimate. Caresses lasting longer and longer. Getting more insistent, more teasing. Longing.

Sebastian looks up to meet Chris’ eyes and that adored spark is burning in them again. Desire, real desire. Envy, want, craving more than Sebastian’s willing to say yet but it’s there, in his eyes. Sebastian’s got parted, inviting pink lips and they’re hard to resist to so Chris doesn’t fight the call. Sebastian moves back against the wall and Chris follows. It’s burning inside him as much as it’s flaming in Sebastian’s eyes.

“ _Mmm_ ,” Chris drawls against Sebastian’s lips, kissing them languidly. “Want me to take care of you?” He asks because Sebastian’s erected cock is laying against his thigh and it’s impossible to ignore. Sebastian’s staring at Chris, eyes darkening, pupils dilating and lips curving in the most lustful grin ever and Chris missed that expression so much.

Sebastian’s playful, Chris knows that, so he plays along because it ravishes him.

“Do you want me on my knees?” Chris murmurs teasingly, staring down at Sebastian. He seems so small, but he’s standing tall on his feet, nearly tiptoeing; Chris tilts his head down slightly to move closer to his mouth. Sebastian’s looking at him through his eyelashes and he darts his tongue out, sweeps it above his lower lip, remaining silent. Chris hides his smile, moving closer to whisper in Sebastian’s ear again, “or maybe you want me to bend you over against the wall?”

Sebastian’s cock twitches, hitting Chris’ thigh lightly. This is good, this is exactly what he wants. Chris licks Sebastian’s ear making him shiver and then goes back to his lips, travelling innocently on them to arouse Sebastian some more. Sebastian parts them wider then, needing Chris’ tongue in his mouth more than teasingly drawing the lines of his lips. Unnecessary timidity evaporating to join the steam in the room.

“Yeah you’d like that,” Chris breathes close, half amused, half amazed. His mouth is open, hovering over Sebastian’s but refusing to meet yet. He wants to make that moment last.

Chris couldn’t care less about Jeremy and Scarlett waiting in the living room, they invited themselves they can wait as much time as it will take. Sebastian’s reacting to his words and touch; he wants Chris. More eager than earlier. He really, really wants him but not just that he wants _Chris_ to want him. And Chris does want him, so bad. Earlier was good, earlier was really good, it was intimate and tender but he’s craving _his_ baby back and now that he has a glimpse of it he won’t let go of it so easily.

There’s something inside Chris that tells him Sebastian just want to feel loved again, claimed in a way. Feels like he want Chris to claim him back; he’s exposed in the press and to everyone’s eyes but he only need Chris’ on him, he only wants his. Chris doubts Sebastian’s ever looked at someone the way he looks at Chris. It seems so new to him, so fascinating. It’s delightful. Chris will never get tired of this.

Sebastian’s looking at him, not moving closer to kiss Chris’ mouth still hovering over his. He wants to play. He wants to be desired, chased, cherished, like a trophy. Morally wrong, maybe, but Chris has seen and done way worse than this. And any of this socially unacceptable perversion is still much better than Sebastian locking himself in the bathroom for two hours, crying all alone at the idea of Chris’ hands touching him, and it does make sense. Touching him and loving him, it’s a way to wipe away his humiliation and if that’s what Sebastian really needs, then Chris will oblige more than willingly.

Oh, he’s going to make his head spin and his body tremble with pleasure so much Sebastian won’t be able to stand on his feet, but it’s okay, Chris will hold him.

“Tell me what you want,” Chris murmurs again and Sebastian whimpers as Chris’ hand drops to his aching cock. Chris gives two soft strokes, his thumb lightly circling the leaking tip. They’re breathing the same air, so close Chris can hear and feel Sebastian’s intakes of breath on his lips. Sebastian moans discreetly and Chris smirks, contented, so entranced.

“I’m dying to taste you,” Chris adds, hand leaving Sebastian’s cock to take a good grasp on his ass. “But you’ve got the prettiest ass I’ve ever seen, can’t tell you how much I love pounding into it,” he praises this time because it’s true, Sebastian shouldn’t only win awards for his talent but also for the perfection of this ass. “You like that too, right baby?” Chris asks and Sebastian turns red, agrees in a desperate whine; strangled voice and teeth sinking in his lower lip. His hands on Chris’ back, sinking in the flesh, fingernails scratching wonderfully. Oh, his baby is coming back.

“I know you do,” Chris says again, and Sebastian shudders from the words and intonation. Chris doesn’t leave a kiss on Sebastian’s mouth, instead he leaves one against his cheek, and then a second one and more until he’s close to his ear again because it’s Sebastian’s weakness and Chris wants to play too. “I know you love having me inside you,” he murmurs seductively.

Sebastian whines again. It’s working perfectly well.

“But you do love my mouth too, hm?” Chris questions, perfectly knowing the answer and Sebastian nods. Chris smiles wider, “how much do you love it?” He asks again and Sebastian swallows this time while Chris’ hand goes back to find his cock -as perfect as his ass.

Sebastian gasps, hips jerking upward at the contact. In a murmur he confesses, “a lot.”

“Yeah?” Chris teases; Sebastian nods again. “So what do you want?” Chris asks before licking Sebastian’s ear to torture him a little longer, “my mouth or my cock?”

“Anything,” Sebastian gasps, “anything,” he repeats and his voice derails, so high, so needy.

Chris leaves his hold on his hard-on and grip at Sebastian’s hip instead. In a swift and strong movement he turns Sebastian over, face first against the wall. Chris is mindful enough to make sure he doesn’t hurt him and he sticks himself to Sebastian’s back. Sebastian pushes against him, feeling Chris hard cock against his ass, and puts both his hands against the wall.

Chris’ hand is following the curve of Sebastian’s arched back, forehead resting on his shoulder. He looks down, admire his well-rounded butt, marvels at the adorable dimples, the drops of water running down the hollow of his back. His never-ending spine and the beauty of the light reflecting on his golden and wet skin. Sebastian’s so thin and lean, Chris’ hand looks gigantic as it explores and travels down. Sebastian tiptoes again and Chris’ cock disappears between his cheeks, his jaw drops open softly as he smiles in surprise and amusement.

Sebastian moves back and forth slowly, water and soap making it easier for Chris’ hard cock to glide and slide between the cheeks he’s contracting to stroke him dedicatedly. Chris nibbles at his lower lip, sincere smile drawn on it before he kisses the base of Sebastian’s neck.

Chris breathes out in light pleasure from the friction before he lifts up his face, kissing far up Sebastian’s neck before licking at his ear once more; Sebastian shudders again, lovely little sound escaping his lips. They’re trying to tease each other and that’s a game Chris has been missing deeply. Not that he doesn’t love when it’s all intimate and calm and he’s the one taking care of Sebastian, but damn Sebastian isn’t as much of an angel as the press loves to portray him, and that’s a secret Chris will keep to himself. Take with him to his grave, because it’s only his to know, Sebastian’s only his to have.

His fingers keep travelling from where they left off, the palm of his hand enveloping Sebastian’s cheek perfectly, strong and warm around it when Chris has drawn the whole path of this his perfect back, then Chris squeezes. Sebastian’s ass hits Chris' body again, harder, faster. Chris gasps in surprise and delight before laughing quietly and Sebastian moans, high-pitched noise coming from down his throat, in need, desperate for more. Lungs filling with voiced and pleased sounds. Chris hushes him with a few loving kiss along his shoulder, he brings Sebastian closer, bends him over a little more and his fingers curls around Sebastian’s erection.

Sebastian drops his head backwards, turning his face in Chris’ direction, whining and moaning a little more audibly and it goes straight up to Chris’ spine. Sebastian can sometimes moan so loud and needy, but boy, how much does Chris love the sound of his voice when he’s holding on those exact sounds to breathe. He’d give Sebastian the world when he whines, the moon when he cries, the whole universe when he begs. He’d give him anything, anytime.

Chris’ arms are stretched, looking for balance against the wall and Sebastian’s looking at Chris, captivated, baby blue surrounding a wider and eager black hole, biting at his lower lip seductively. Chris indulges him of a kiss. A short, brief peck on the lips and when Chris pulls away, Sebastian voices his displeasure, whining plaintively.

Chris smiles with adoration, admiration. Not meaning any complaint he presses their lips together again and Sebastian doesn’t let him pull away this time. He slips his tongue inside Chris’ mouth and Chris lets him play with his, let them both melt into an open-mouthed kiss. Sloppy and messy but oh so passionate. Chris gives a few more stroke and twist of his wrist, Sebastian moans in his mouth obscene and utterly indecent but yet delectably sweet.

Chris can taste the pleasure on his parted lips, hear it alluringly in his ears. He’s just so needy and eager already and Chris barely did anything. Barely even touched him yet, just light caresses and teasing blows in his ear.

Any other day, Chris would have fucked him without thinking twice about it but not today. He’s lucid enough to make a smarter choice and he wants to make a smarter choice. Sebastian desperately need and want to feel loved and treasured. He needs to feel special again and Chris understands that and there’s no better way to show him devotion than adulating him on his knees. A true and complete devotion. Chris gently turns Sebastian back to face him before pushing him completely against the wall, still looking so absurdly tiny in front of him.

He buries his face in Sebastian’s neck, licking, trailing his lips and tongue over the wet skin to kiss and drink every drop. Sebastian’s wiggling against the wall, his hands all over Chris’ back and soaked hair. Humming in his ear, rubbing his leg along Chris’. Chris bites at the flesh of his neck, tugs on it and Sebastian whines again. So loud. So sweet.

Then Chris drops to his knees.

Hands exploring Sebastian’s hipbones, nuzzling his pelvis. Kissing around his hard cock, glancing up to see Sebastian staring down, nibbling at his bottom lip, wondering what kind of torment Chris will put him through but already loving it. Chris teases just a little, not wanting to push Sebastian too far; it’s about pleasing him not torturing him. Although the line between the two is debatable.

Sebastian gives a tilt of his hips and softly, with the back of his hand, Chris caresses the rest of Sebastian’s body; wandering over his chest and thighs, loving and marvelling at every inch until he finds Sebastian's hard cock. Chris wraps his fingers around it to stroke up and down lightly. Sebastian’s hand fall on his head, fingers running through Chris’ hair before he gets a good grasp on it.

Chris twirls his tongue around the tip while he strokes Sebastian slowly, he teases a bit but gives Sebastian what he wants when he wants it, or at least at first. He gives Sebastian the impression of giving him anything he wants and then Chris teases him like never before, because he’ll please Sebastian but Chris wants to hear from the top of his lungs how much he does already.

Chris barely licks and barely presses his lips or tongue on him, hand stroking so slowly Sebastian’s hips are jerking up from the wall and he’s whining above him, begging Chris to do something and he’s just getting started.

Chris only gives a short lick or a long one here and there, making Sebastian gasp and grip at his hair. He mouths kisses, takes Sebastian in his mouth to do nothing with him, just his breathings warming him up the erected skin with, sometimes, the tip of his tongue to lick and collect the pre-cum leaking out before covering him of his lips, lightly. Another kiss driving Sebastian insane because it’s way too soft and slow.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Sebastian cries out, trying to get Chris to put his cock in his mouth again, “Chris, please.”

Yes, he pleases. Chris laps with the tip of his tongue and then dances around, so lightly Sebastian keeps swearing and cursing which is truly endearing. Sebastian rarely curse but Chris chooses to ignore it, making Sebastian groan loudly when Chris decides to suck just his tip of his cock, not for too long but it’s enough to turn Sebastian into a whining mess again. Mewling like the torture is unbearable but Chris is savouring it, relishing it. Not ignoring his complains anymore. Loving them entirely. That’s only when Sebastian’s voicing it’s too much that Chris puts him in his mouth and takes proper care of him. Sebastian moans then, loud, so loud, louder than before. So much for Chris' ego.

“Oh fuck babe, _fuck! Mmmm_!” Sebastian exclaims himself as he pulls at Chris’ hair. Tugging on it so hard he might tear some out but Chris is far from caring about this minor detail. He’s giving Sebastian what he’s been yearning for so long now, sucking from the base to the tip seductively, teasingly. Then again, same way but faster. Chris insists and mouths over the tip and then sucks again, going as deep as he can go. And again.

Sebastian’s babbling now, swearing and moaning and whimpering incessantly. Pleasure audible and touchable, delicious on Chris’ tongue. Chris keeps sucking but stops stroking, his hand finding Sebastian’s balls instead and Sebastian moans from the top of his voice, so fucking alluringly hot.

Sebastian pants, gasps, grips at Chris’ hair, yanking on it, his hips jerking up again. He hits the back of Chris’ throat while Chris lets him fuck his mouth, his hands lands on Sebastian’s thighs just to stay in control. Chris looks up, meets his boyfriend’s eyes. Sebastian’s moaning so horribly loud; it’s such a turn-on Chris think he’s going to come from it. Just that and Sebastian pulling at his hair, looking down at him with those indescribable eyes, mouth hanging open. Sebastian moans once more, head hitting the wall behind, breaking the short eye contact.

“Fuck, _fuck_ ,” Sebastian chants, cheers and Chris gets back in charge, sucking him off from the base to the tip until there’s nothing more to take.

“Oh Chris fuck, _mmmmm_ ,” Sebastian says tightening his hold on Chris’ hair, he’s gonna tear all of them out if he continues but it doesn’t really matter. Chris is giving Sebastian what he wants, the world, the moon, the universe and more.

“ _MMM, MMM,”_ Sebastian moans excitedly, pinching his lips together to avoid making too much noise. Then his voice wrecks and he starts mewling, yelping. Completely whimpering. “ _Chris, Chris, Chris,”_ he calls incessantly and Chris can guess just how close he is to coming.

Sebastian doesn’t have the time nor the lucidity to warn him before he does, spitting hot liquid in Chris’ mouth, come on his tongue and hitting the back of his throat. Chris swirls his tongue around and Sebastian yelps again, overwhelmed and oversensitive. Chris swallows most of it, his own aching cock twitching up, asking for attention too.

Sebastian pulls Chris back on his feet by his hair. He crashes their mouths together, forces his tongue past Chris’ lips to taste the rest still sticky in Chris’ mouth. His fingers curls around Chris’ erection and Chris can’t help the raucous groan, hips jerking forward, begging at his turn in a voiceless breath. His emotions are all upside-down, mouth hanging open, sharing the overwhelming feeling of Sebastian’s shaking orgasm.

Sebastian strokes him, twisting his wrist, making Chris stumble over his moans and his knees go weak. Sebastian drops on his knees at his turn, water hitting his back in a beautiful melody and he shoves Chris’ cock in his mouth, so fucking warm and sweet. A perfect, cosy nest. Sebastian’s perfect, nothing less. Fingers, mouth, lips; perfect. Chris leans against the wall, looks down at Sebastian’s lips curved around him, all round and pink, his tongue licking and lapping, turning around. _Jesus._ Oh god, he’s so close already, he’s not gonna last long. Sebastian takes him fully in his mouth and –

_Jesus fucking Christ._

“Fuck baby, I’m gonna –I’m gonna,” Chris gasps, hand falling on the top of Sebastian’s head, petting before griping his hair, not as hard as Sebastian gripped at his. It’s rising inside him, growing and growing oh, Chris is just on the edge.

“ _Fuck!”_ Chris says loud but holds back a louder moan, teeth sinking deep down his lip, hips pushing in deeper in Sebastian’s mouth. He groans, grunts, squirming, muscles tensing, contracting. Pleasure washing over him, all at once, rogue wave hitting him and leaving him empty and drained, a ghosting feeling of pure bliss haunting him. Devastating him. It ends in an audible breath, his chest heaving up and down fast.

Sebastian climbs back up to face him, leaving kisses all the way up on his hipbones, chest, neck, cheek until Chris catches his lips for a open-mouthed kiss, eager and sloppy. Messy, pushing him hard against the other wall. He bites Sebastian’s lower lip, tugs at it, too harshly maybe.

Sebastian yelps. Definitely too harshly.

Chris nibbles and bites harder at the flesh of his neck, mouths kisses over his ear. “I fucking love you,” he says, still trying to catch his breath, elated. He drops kisses everywhere he can, in total blinding bliss. “Jesus Christ…” Chris breathes to himself before he kisses all the length up of Sebastian’s throat.

Sebastian wraps his arms around Chris’ neck and Chris lifts him off his feet without thinking, skinny legs encircling his waist. Sebastian starts to laugh and it’s the most adorable sound in the hollow of Chris’ ear. Chris’ heart finally stops racing in his chest and follows Sebastian’s rhythm instead.

“You think they heard us?” Sebastian asks, entirely amused and out of breath, panting and soaked of both water and sweat.

“I’d be surprise if _anyone_ in New York didn’t,” Chris smiles, pressing more kisses in Sebastian’s neck. He just loves every inch of skin. Then Chris lifts his head to take a look at Sebastian, all flushed, blushing bright red, sweet velvet heating his cheeks.

“You’re so beautiful,” Chris whispers to him, completely fond and marvelled.

Sebastian blinks, his smile growing more adorable; endearing, really, his expression so lovely. Chris is so fond of it, of him, of that sincere, gorgeous cute little smile. Pink lips and white teeth. The light on his face. He missed it so much, missed that Sebastian. Chris kisses his mouth, not ready to put him back on the floor just yet. He likes having Sebastian so close he can feel his heart beating in his own chest and feel his breath on his skin.

“They’re gonna kill us,” Sebastian laughs again and Chris chokes the sound with his mouth.

“I’d like to see them try,” Chris jokes without laughing, pressing his lips against Sebastian’s teeth. “Nobody puts their hands on you,” he says with a smile and means it. 

Sebastian leaves his mouth to contemplate Chris’ face, his eyes catching light at the words; a burning fire rising in sparks. Aroused and turned-on at the idea of belonging to Chris. Fully. Sebastian’s got no idea what Chris would be willing to do protect him, and it’s probably better that way. Chris is not sure he knows his own limits himself, if there are any. Because he can’t stand to feel helpless in front of Sebastian’s pain. He can’t stand to see him cry with no way to calm him down. That week revived things deep inside Chris thought were dead by now. Feeding the big bad monster living within him. 

Chris can reassure Sebastian, comfort him, he can be there, he can do anything but he always feels like he’s not doing enough. It’s scary in a way, Chris has always been aware of this dark side, that monster with a dazzling smile, that’s not a surprise. It’s just so... justifiable when it comes to Sebastian. That frightens him. 

Although it only crosses his mind, Chris doesn’t think about it for too long, the idea just flying through and leaving as fast as it came; the taste of Sebastian’s lips pressed against his softening his darkest thoughts. Chris eventually puts him back on his feet, cupping his chin for a last kiss. 

“Wanna get out?” he asks Sebastian because it’s his decision. Scarlett and Jeremy can still wait a bit more, none of Chris’ concern. He could go for a round of cuddles too. 

Sebastian seems to consider this option too but he ends up nodding with an innocent soiled smile. “Yeah, yeah let’s get out,” he answers, looking at Chris, “they’ve been waiting long enough.” 

So they step out of the shower, Chris holding Sebastian’s hand before sneaking behind him and pressing his chest against his back. He holds Sebastian by the waist with a shielding arm over his chest. Chris can’t get enough of Sebastian. He can’t get enough of the way he smells, of his fingers so thin grasping at his forearm, his head perfectly nestling in the crook of his neck. The way he purrs adorably and shudders easily when he brushes his side. Chris just can’t get enough of him and it’s near a miracle and probably why it seems so scary. Chris grows tired of people easily, well not people exactly, lovers, and after months he’s still not the slightest tired of Sebastian.

Sebastian shifts in Chris’ arms, putting his own around Chris’ neck and tiptoes to kiss his lips. It’s sweet and tender at first until Sebastian provokes Chris and it turns into desperate need fast enough, Chris pushing Sebastian back towards the sink. With an arm around his waist, Chris picks him up effortlessly and sits him on the edge of the furniture. Sebastian moans in his mouth. 

Chris pulls away then, laughing. “ _Jesus,_ ” he breathes. He’s turning into an animal. Sebastian’s turning him into an animal.

Sebastian smiles shyly, lines drawing his cheekbones either parts of his mouth perfectly, eyes crinkling in the most beautiful way, leaving Chris to stare, filled with rapture and awe. Chris leans both his hands on the furniture, close enough to Sebastian’s lips. Sebastian steals a peck at them, back being all innocent. All sweet. Chris shakes his head lightly. Unbelievable.

This kid is driving him crazy.

His gaze gets more intense, staring at Chris now. The curves of his lips, artwork and masterpiece, malice gliding on the brilliance of the pink skin. Tongue peeking out to tease and lure him closer. Cheeks all ablaze with desire. Chris complies. Obeys. Crashing their mouths together, appealed and enthralled.

“You’re–” Chris tries to say but ends up getting distracted by Sebastian’s tongue shushing him. Yeah Chris, shut up for once. Just enjoy. Sebastian’s fingers grasps at the back of his head, tugging on the grip of his hair. Chris still has his hand on his back and he wanders the soaked flesh, pulling Sebastian closer.

Sebastian’s the one drawing away this time, out of breath and gasping to catch it back. Chris has a smile fixed on his lips and he leans in close again to drop a handful fervent kiss on Sebastian’s cheek. Sebastian laughs adorably; Chris savours the sound of such a beautiful soft and sweet laugh. It’s been too long. Oh way too long.

He moves away, let Sebastian the possibility and space to jump off the furniture. He turns, grabs a towel, dries himself fast and picks up his underwear off the floor. When he looks back, Sebastian’s using a towel too and Chris barely uses his on his hair. He hangs it on the rail and give Sebastian a last kiss before leaving the bathroom. Cupping his chin to reach his lips and then another on his cheek.

Jeremy and Scarlett’s eyes are on Chris as soon as he opens the door, they haven’t moved at all. Scarlett is still sitting on her stool and Jeremy is still near her. Chris ignores them both and walks to wardrobe. 

“Shower any good?” Jeremy asks nonchalantly. 

“Greatest I’ve ever had,” Chris answers back casually. He turns to them, avoiding Jeremy’s gaze to focus on Scarlett’s. “What should I to wear?” 

She pouts charmingly, pensive for a second then shakes her head lightly, getting out of her thoughts. “Whatever you want.” 

“Gonna tell me where you’re taking us?” Chris asks as he grabs a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt of his favourite football team.

“We’re going to Chris and Tom’s,” Scarlett says.

“You guys had been locked here for too long,” Jeremy adds, “we thought we’d do a barbecue or something. Clear your minds.”

Oh… that’s actually a sweet idea. It’s not hiking and mountains and trees, but it’s still a sweet idea. Chris could use a night like this and he’s sure Sebastian could use one too. Just relaxing, chilling, laughing. Drinking some bee–

Speaking of the wolf, Sebastian steps out of the bathroom wearing his pair of jeans. Chris isn’t one to be really shy, stepping out of the bathroom in his underwear isn’t a big deal, Scarlett and Jeremy have both seen him naked more often than they probably liked but it’s true that Sebastian is more reserved and discreet. He joins them, walking around Chris to grab a shirt to wear.

“You heard?” Chris asks him.

Sebastian nods, a small shy smile upon his lips as he tries to contain his previous joy and avoid meeting any eyes. Maybe slightly embarrassed by the fact there are no doubts both Scarlett and Jeremy heard them but they invited themselves after all, they should have known better and give a warning call. Sure, as Jeremy rightly thought, Chris would have come up with an excuse but they wouldn’t have had to hear what they did. Chris won’t excuse for any of it.

Sebastian walks farther in the room and peeks by the window. Chris keeps his eyes on him and it’s just a matter of seconds before his wrath rises inside his chest.

“They’re _still_ outside?” He seethes when he notices Sebastian’s smile fading. No, no, _no_. He worked so hard to bring that smile back; they can’t ruin it so easily. Not that fucking easily. “Don’t they have fucking lives?!” Chris fumes and shouts, looking at Jeremy with the palm of his hand ferociously opened.

Jeremy tells them to not worry about that, but of course Chris worries. Sebastian’s back in his shell again, tensed and sad and of course it pisses him off. It’s been days now, can’t they just leave them the fuck alone for Christ’s sake? It’s inhuman, that’s harassment. Chris is sure it’s harassment, they should just contact his lawyers again. Maybe they can obtain a restriction or something.

Jeremy tries to calm him but Chris keeps talking loud, angered and Scarlett explains they can’t legally do anything. She should know, she had paparazzi on her ass all of her life; if she says there’s nothing they can do then there’s nothing they can do. Although there’s one thing Chris could do, but that wouldn’t do any good besides appeasing the anger for just awhile.

Jeremy turns to Sebastian, concerned by his unresponsiveness while Chris stares at Scarlett, raging inside about to shout and complain some more.

“Just ignore them,” Jeremy says kindly, like Sebastian hasn’t tried that already, but he’s out of any other advice to give. Chris is too, but it annoys him to hear Jeremy offering such a useless advice and he directs his lightning eyes towards his manager but he meets Sebastian first.

Chris only glances at him before his eyes flees Sebastian’s gaze, trying to contain his anger. “I’m gonna punch someone in the teeth,” he grumbles to himself but it’s loud enough everyone in the room heard. Hands on his waist, Chris shakes his head and pinch his lips together, enraged.

“Don’t say things like that,” Scarlett scolds him, forcing Chris to look at her in surprise.

She knows Chris, she’s used to hear him talk that way; those are just words he needs to spit out, she knows that. Chris might be aggressive in the way he expresses himself sometimes and he might have, by the past, found himself in a few fights but that’s a part of him he erased a while ago. She knows, or she should know but she doesn’t look exactly convinced. Chris looks around swiftly, looking for support but Jeremy’s only staring at him, frowning and that pisses Chris off.

“Don’t scowl at me,” Chris spits, frowning too now.

“Then stop behaving like an asshole,” Jeremy answers evenly.

“ _Oh fuck you_ ,” Chris lets out in a defensive reflex. He looks away and then looks back at Jeremy.

Jeremy hasn’t taken his eyes off of him, worse he’s looking at Chris defiantly. “You know what Chris? Fuck you too! I’m tired of babysitting you. You wanna punch someone? Go ahead, enjoy yourself but I’m not gonna bail you out this time,” Jeremy nearly shouts and that irritates Chris.

The fact Jeremy thinks necessary to throw that to his face, his shameful past; the fact Jeremy’s increasing tone and _shouting_ at him, it irritates him deeply and Chris speaks before he gets the chance to think. “Maybe I’m gonna punch _you_ in the face! How about that?”

“Guys,” Scarlett tries to call but the tension grows and Chris start walking closer to Jeremy as Jeremy only makes a step forward.

“What is it uh?” Jeremy asks cautiously. “Need to prove you got some in your pants?”

Chris seethes, boiling with barely contained rage. His jaw clenches and his knuckles contract to form a fist. He moves a little closer. “Think I already proved that,” Chris sneers, “didn’t I?”

“And what about him,” Jeremy nods in Sebastian’s direction, “proved him yet? You fuck him from sunset to sunrise, but you raised a hand against him yet?” Jeremy spits and Chris snaps, grabs him by the collar of his shirt.

“Guys!” Scarlett calls again, louder this time as she jumps to her feet.

“ _Shut the fuck up_ ,” Chris barks at Jeremy because he’s got no right to say that. He’s got no right to accuse him of something so serious, and gross. He’s got no rights to involve Sebastian into this.

“Prove me I’m right,” Jeremy growls, his face close to Chris. “Come on Evans, hit me, prove me I’m fucking right and you didn’t change.”

Scarlett grabs Chris by the arm and after a few tempting seconds where Scarlett calls his name, Chris finally loosens his grip on Jeremy’s shirt. He’s still seething, gritting his teeth but he doesn’t want to risk anything happening to Scarlett.

“Are you out of your fucking minds?” Scarlett accuses them, sharing her discontented expression between them two. Chris makes a step back while Scarlett turns to Jeremy, hitting his chest with a weak slap. “Why are you provoking him?!”

“‘Cause I’m tired of his bullshit,” Jeremy says to her and then looks at Chris.

“You know how he is,” Scarlett says defensively, “don’t act like it’s anything new!”

“And don’t act like it’s goddamn normal!” Jeremy answers evenly, back looking at her.

Sebastian probably hasn’t taken his eyes off of him when Chris meets his again; he looks afraid and saddened by the whole scene he witnessed. That calms Chris down immediately. He sighs, swallows difficultly, angry after himself now. He doesn’t pay attention to the end of Scarlett and Jeremy’s argument, instead Chris calls Sebastian’s name and Sebastian doesn’t answer, looks away instead.

“Babe?” Chris calls again more softly. Sebastian finally looks back at him with that sad puppy face Chris now hates deeply. “You okay?” He dares to ask but of course he’s not, how could he be after what he’s seen and heard?

Sebastian nods but it’s not enough for Chris, he can see in his watering eyes that he’s not okay and that makes Chris feel terrible. Worse than terrible, he feels disgusting because he knows that’s his fault. He walks up to Sebastian, slowly, to reassure him. He doesn’t want Sebastian to believe any of what’s been said, it’s not what it sounds like. Once he’s close enough, Chris takes Sebastian in his arms and leaves a kiss on his temple. Sebastian snuggles closer as soon as Chris’ hand lay on his waist, gripping at his shirt.

“I love you,” Chris reminds him lowly so only Sebastian can hear. “I didn’t mean to lose my temper, I’m sorry,” he starts, intending to explain because Sebastian should know what it’s really about but Sebastian cuts him before he can say another word.

“I’m sorry I upset you,” he murmurs back.

Chris looks down in surprise, meeting Sebastian’s sorry and wet eyes. “What?” He asks, not understanding where this is coming from. Chris is the one who was about to fight, not Sebastian. He didn’t even say a word, how can Sebastian believe he upset him? Chris swallows down the previous shame and guilt and whole speech and forces himself not to bristle at the sentence.

“It’s my fault if you’re arguing,” Sebastian says in a small voice that breaks Chris’ heart. Sebastian looks over at Jeremy and then back at Chris. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Chris answers quickly, frowning again but this time in total incomprehension. “We fight all the time,” he adds, looking behind him, looking at Jeremy. “It just got out of hand today, that’s all,” he tries to explain again.

Jeremy is looking at Chris, taking a deep breath, chest heaving up. Chris is silently apologizing, unable to maintain the eye contact for too long. They have history together, they’ve known each other for so long, it’s normal for them to fight sometimes. He hopes Jeremy will back him up on this.

“He’s right kid,” Jeremy says, lifting a weight from Chris. “You did nothing wrong, we’re just both tired, nothing to do with you.”

Sebastian keeps his eye on Chris, so persuaded he’s right, “but you wouldn’t be fighting if it wasn’t for me.”

“Don’t say that,” Chris narrows his eyes, looking at Sebastian’s face to find any clue but he can’t seem to understand what’s going through his mind; how Sebastian can believe that so strongly? “We fight about everything all the time,” Chris assures him, “it’s not your fault.”

“But it _is,_ ” Sebastian whispers forcefully, not wanting to make a scene but heart screaming loud. He hides his face against Chris’ chest, looking in the opposite direction of their guests. Looking by the window. “You’re arguing because of the paparazzi,” he continues, mumbling and wiping his cheek against Chris’ shirt, “and they’re here because of me, because of those stupid pictures.”

Chris cradles Sebastian’s face again, knowing perfectly well he’ll be seeing tears in Sebastian’s eyes and maybe trembling lips because his voice lost it on the last words. Sebastian sniffles, refusing to lift his head at first, but Chris insists lightly.

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian manages to repeat between two sobs.

“Stop,” Chris whispers sadly, “Seb, baby stop, listen to me, it’s not your fault okay?” He tries to reassure him, in vain because Sebastian cuts him again.

“But it is!” He says louder this time. “Whether you agree or not, _it’s my fault_ if they’re waiting outside the building and that’s why you were arguing, don’t lie to me, that’s why you were arguing,” Sebastian says and his voice wrecks again, Chris hears it, heart squeezing.

Chris closes his eyes as he heaves a sigh, probably committing another mistake he could have avoided easily but he’s used to deserve the award of worst boyfriend on this planet so it’s not a surprise when Sebastian tenses in his arms. He looks up at him, terrified and Chris doesn’t have the time to speak a word because Sebastian speaks too fast.

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian says and makes a step back, “I should leave–”

Chris’ eyes widens and his heart contracts in his ribcage. Feels like he’s just been hit right in the chest and it’s impossible to catch his breath, his hand laying on Sebastian’s waistline. In an apprehensive whisper Chris asks him to repeat but Sebastian doesn’t hear him and continues, walking away while Chris stands there voiceless, hand hanging in the air.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this,” Sebastian starts trying to convince himself more than Chris, “they’re here because of me, it’s my fault. You never wanted that attention –”

“ _Neither did you_ ,” Chris retorts, cutting off his guilty speech and grabbing his forearm. “D’you think I want you to leave?” He asks, worried, eyes still widely open.

Chris loosens his grip on Sebastian’s wrist when he realise it might be too strong and, understanding that’s not what he wants to know, Chris asks again, “Do _you_ want to leave?” And his heart starts racing at the idea Sebastian might.

Sebastian’s mouth hangs open, unable to let out a word, a sound. He closes his mouth then, shakes his head lightly and a first tear rolls on his cheek that Chris wipes away softly. Sebastian frowns, probably going through lots of internal struggle and Chris tries to quiet his loud mind by pulling him close again.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Chris says so low in Sebastian’s hair he hopes Sebastian hears it. Chris hugs him tight. He really doesn’t want him to leave, Sebastian almost lives here now, that would kill Chris to find himself alone in this apartment again.

“But you’re angry,” Sebastian whispers, not wanting to hug Chris back, “because of me.”

Chris takes a deep breath again. He must really be failing somewhere if Sebastian thinks it’s all his fault. _Chris_ is making him believe it, he’s not doing or saying the right things. He forces Sebastian to look up at him this time, not leaving him the choice.

“I’m angry because they’re sleeping on that damn sidewalk and making you cry all day,” Chris tells him, thumb brushing Sebastian’s once happy lips. “I’m angry because of them, not because of you.”

“But–”

“And we were arguing because I’m real jerk sometimes,” Chris fakes a smile. “This isn’t your fault,” he adds, wiping another tear, “none of this is, okay?”

“You’re not mad at me?” Sebastian asks apprehensively.

“ _No_ ,” Chris starts, careful to not heave a sigh this time and to keep on his fake smile, “I’m not mad or upset, I’m not ashamed or embarrassed or disgusted or whatever,” he reassures Sebastian yet another time but that's fine, he'd do it all day if that's what he needs. “So would you please stop blaming yourself?”

Sebastian doesn’t answer, just stares so Chris speaks again, lighter in his tone, “I mean you’re beautiful when you’re crying but I’d rather have you smiling.” He tilts his head slightly, exaggerating his smile which makes Sebastian laugh softly.

“I love you,” Sebastian says before pressing himself against Chris’ chest, “and I don’t want to leave.”

Chris pats his back and kisses the top of his head absently before letting his chin rest there, somewhat relieved and trying to register everything that’s just happened in a few minutes. He glances at Scarlett and Jeremy, both staring without making a sound, not wanting to intrude but heartbroken by Sebastian’s reaction. If only they knew, saw what Chris did.

Sebastian eventually sniffles and wipes his tears as he part from Chris, grabbing a hoodie nearby and avoiding to look at anyone for too long again. Chris keeps on reassuring him that everything is fine, with his hands and words, whispers and caresses. Scarlett tries too while Jeremy takes Chris apart to talk with him for just a minute in the kitchen. They don’t need more than that, just a minute to apologise in a handful words and hug each other to move on. There, forgotten. That simple.

“They’re probably going to follow us,” Jeremy warns when they all get to the elevator.

Jeremy tells Chris and Sebastian to just stride to the car and not worry about the rest and to not speak a word besides salutations if they really want to. Chris snorts, he’s not fully sure if it was meant to be a joke or not, sometimes Jeremy’s sense of humour is hard to understand but all Chris wants to say if _fuck you all_ anyway, and since that’s not part of the list given to him he’ll shut his mouth like the obedient employee he is. He also doesn’t want to fight with Jeremy again, he’s right, Chris shouldn’t make a scene.

Scarlett goes out first and Chris and Sebastian follow right behind. Sebastian holds Chris’ hand tightly, hides in his back, his arm over his chest. Chris keeps an eye on Scarlett in front of him too and glances in his back, Jeremy politely telling everyone to fuck off; like any manager would do. They’re all plying Sebastian with questions, embarrassing ones and Chris focuses on Sebastian’s hand, holding it tightly to not let it turn into a fist again. Scarlett opens the door and she climbs in the car.

All those flashes are highly irritating Chris but he opens the door for Sebastian and lets him hide inside first. He slams the door shut finally, isolating them from all the sounds and questions; luckily all the glasses, except for the front windshield are darkly tinted and Jeremy’s quick to take the wheel and start the car and that’s when Chris finally breathes a bit.

He holds Sebastian’s hand on his lap, noticing he’s wearing his rings again, which hasn’t happened since the incident. He must have put them on while Chris was talking with Jeremy. Chris likes it when he’s wearing them, a little bad boy vibe that’s kind of cute on him. Noticing he's silent, Chris kisses the top of Sebastian’s hair, “okay?”

Sebastian nods, a fast, weak smile appearing on his lips.

Hemsworth and Tom live a little outside the centre of city in a nice house. It shouldn’t be that long of a ride but it feels like an eternity. Sebastian’s quiet the whole time. Scarlett does try to cheer them up, talking about her new project in Europe which sounds fascinating, or would sound fascinating any other day. Not even their featuring song broadcasted on the radio succeeds to put a smile on Sebastian’s lips, worse, seems like he hasn’t even heard it. It rips Chris’ heart apart, but he doesn’t let it show through.

He crosses Jeremy’s gaze as he looks in the rear-view mirror and Jeremy offers him a kind smile, the whole fight is behind him already. That’s how it goes between them, once it awhile it’s just an outburst of testosterone and then it evaporates as fast it showed up. It just shouldn’t have happened in front of Sebastian and Scarlett. Chris kisses Sebastian’s forehead as Jeremy’s attention focuses on the road again.

After a little while Sebastian finally does relax in Chris’ arms completely and he leaves a kiss in the crook of Chris’ neck. Chris smiles, lightly. He turns to face Sebastian and steals him a kiss. It’s chaste but it lasts and his hand fits perfectly between his thighs.

“No sex on my back seat,” Jeremy warns them. “Or if you soil it, you clean it.”

Sebastian laughs softly, air leaving his nostrils suddenly to tickle Chris’ skin. It puts his heart back together. Sebastian hides his face behind Chris’ cheek, pressing a kiss on his jaw. He could if he wanted to, but Chris decides to not tease Sebastian. Long gone are the days where his depravation dictated his life, love is the main word now. And love means not being a total horny asshole sometimes, just a decent, well behaved boyfriend. A loving and reassuring one.

“Can I ask you something?” Sebastian whispers in Chris’ ear.

“Hmm?” Chris answers as softly and discreetly.

“You and Jeremy?”

Chris’ jaw clenches but he keeps on his smile and Sebastian doesn’t seem to understand it’s a fake one now. “Are you jealous?” Chris asks back.

“A little?” Sebastian answers, nibbling his lip anxiously.

“Don’t be,” Chris murmurs trying to sound convincing before kissing him. “I love you,” he says then. Chris doesn’t answer further and Sebastian doesn’t ask for more, snuggling back in his arms which relieves Chris. Not that he’s in love with Jeremy, not at all, but there are things Chris doesn’t want to talk about. He would have explained earlier, if Sebastian had let him a chance to before starting to blame himself for all the misery in this world but Chris isn’t in the right mood anymore.

When they reach the house, Jeremy parks in front of it and the whole Hemsworth-Hiddleston family steps outside to welcome them. A family portrait on the porch, a lovely picture making Chris feel slightly envious.

As soon as they see him, the kids run to Chris’ arms and Chris opens them widely to greet them. He looks up and marvels at the youngest, who _walks_ towards him. “When did that happen?” He shouts at Tom merrily. “Heey!” he throws his hands in the little boy’s direction, lifting him up in his arms before joining everyone else at the doorstep.

“This morning,” Tom finally answers with a proud grin when Chris is next to him.

Chris smiles brightly, greets his best-friend after he’s patted Tom’s back. The kid agitates himself in his arms and Tom laughs as Chris put him back on his feet and he runs towards Hemsworth. A ball of energy that kid, just like his father.

They follow the hosts and all settle outside, patio made of wood and bricks. It’s a very lovely garden and Chris will never get tired of hanging there. Plants and multicoloured flowers everywhere, it’s rich, diverse and vivid; a little glimpse of the Garden of Eden lost in New York. Really, it’s like heaven, rainbow vegetation mixing with a peaceful atmosphere. Tom has the greatest tastes.

Chris sits on a chair and Sebastian on his lap, naturally. Chris promises him to only drink one beer, and Sebastian doesn’t look exactly convinced but he doesn’t peep. Chris really needs a drink, one beer is fine. He’ll savour it. Make it last. He can’t cheat here anyway, they’re always keeping an eye on him in this house. Whoever it is, someone always has an eye on him. Chris is always under surveillance but it’s not like he didn’t deserve to be observed and watched, he knows and accepts the rules.

Sebastian rests comfortably against Chris’ chest and they don’t have a lot of time to chat before Pratt, Anna and their son get there at their turn. It’s been nearly a week since the boys haven’t seen each others but the hugs are always so genuine.

Chris doesn’t pay a lot of attention but something seems wrong. He can’t tell what’s wrong exactly yet, but something is. He can feel it, sense it. Maybe it’s because of all the chaos around Sebastian, maybe it’s just that. Everyone a little uncomfortable and mindful of what they’re saying, walking on eggshells but there _is_ something unusual; ozone from before the storm floating in the air.

But again, Chris doesn’t pay that much attention, he’s too focused on their conversations. First he’s focused on avoiding all the triggering words that might make Sebastian feel bad again because he’s having fun so far, he’s laughing and smiling and he seems to enjoy the night. And then because he’s enjoying to talk about something else than those damn pictures for once, and seeing Sebastian laugh and smile and just talk freely, it’s refreshing. Jeremy and Scarlett were right to force them to go out, it’s not doing them any good to stay cloistered within the same walls for days. It kills him to admit it to himself, but they were right.

Even if Chris likes spending time with Sebastian, in their little precious bubble, it’s no longer a happy place right now. They need a little more air, space. Woods, they need woods. He’s gonna buy that cabin in the woods. He’s gonna do it.

It’s starting to get late and they’re all caught up in conversations more or less shallow. They haven’t even started to eat yet, but all the kids are asleep. The second part of their world tour is about to begin next Friday and they’ll be on tour for a couple weeks without interruptions; not that Chris particularly wants to leave Sebastian –he’d take him with him if he could, but he’s got projects and meetings of his own.

Sebastian is a really busy person and the fact he managed to clear his schedule for a whole week to stay with Chris is near a miracle. But it’s a good thing he did; at least he didn’t have to cancel anything with this whole leaked pictures episode.

So Jeremy is discussing details with the band while Sebastian listens, all wrapped around Chris, using him as a personal radiator because it’s getting chilly. Not that Chris minds, not the slightest, he’s petting Sebastian’s hair absently when Scarlett peeks at Jeremy and he grabs her hands on her lap and Chris knows they’re up to something.

“Guys, guys,” she says to catch everyone’s attention and they’re only confirming Chris’ instinct that something big is coming. “Alright, hm, Jeremy and I have something to tell you all..”

It gets quiet outside as everyone wait for the announcement, the big news that put a smile on both their faces and Chris thinks he’s already guessed what she’s about to say, but he’s still waiting for the confirmation.

“Oh let us guess,” Anna says.

“You’re pregnant!” Pratt tries with a wide smile.

Scarlett nods then blushes, brightly red and Jeremy melts in the most adorable smile Chris has ever seen. Chris swallows. 

“Really?” Tom asks, surprised but yet happy. “That’s so great, congratulations!”

And everyone follows, repeating the same words in a gigantic echo. Chris smiles too, sincerely gets up to pull Scarlett into a hug and whisper in her ear to congratulate her and wish her all the best. He then finds himself in front of Jeremy and Jeremy pulls him into a hug at his turn.

“Congrats man,” Chris whispers but the words aren’t said with the same cheerfulness.

“Thank you,” Jeremy answers, voice low and sincere. He’s smiling, Chris can hear it.

Chris parts from the hug slightly to look into Jeremy’s eyes before he apologizes again. “I’m sorry about earlier,” he says, sure now that Jeremy is indeed smiling. He’s happy, rightly so.

“What happened earlier?” Jeremy asks seriously before he winks. Chris fakes a smile, something sour in his mouth. He feels like a total idiot. He invites Jeremy into another hug to hide his face, not letting his whatever he's feeling show through.

Chris played Cupid after he and Sebastian took separate ways months ago; a little before the Grammys. He couldn’t stand to see them make the same mistake he did with Sebastian. If Chris learned a lesson from it, it’s that Scarlett and Jeremy were made for each other and he needed to open their eyes to the fact it’s been a mutual attraction all along before it was too late. And now they’re going to have a kid.

Now they’re all having kids, all of them but Chris.

Chris hears Scarlett laughing and then asking about dinner and Hemsworth says he’ll go light up the barbecue, Pratt offers his help so Chris does too. Pratt teases Chris, managing miraculously to make him laugh when Chris momentarily forgot what laugh is. He shouldn’t feel bad about this announcement but it’s another proof that everybody is moving on with their lives while he’s barely making baby steps.

So the three of them walks up to the barbecue and as they step closer, Hemsworth nods and Chris jumps on Pratt. The thing is: Pratt has pyromaniac tendencies. Chris has for job to stop him from burning down this lovely garden, or the whole house for that matter. They laugh and Chris forgets about his brain and demons just for a couple minutes, pushing Pratt as far as he can, the whole thing turning into a fight really quickly. Pratt defends himself, and it’s grown-ups playing kids games under the moonlight with the strength of two beasts.

Pratt clutches at Chris’ shirt and Chris whines saying he’d better not tear this one up. “One, do not rip off Tom Brady’s jersey, it’s unholy,” Chris shouts with a broad smile.

To which Pratt answers, “It’s already unholy to wear that jersey in the first place.”

No need to specify Chris takes it personally and the fight increase from little kids with super-strength level to throw and toss each other around uncaringly. Two muscled animals fighting and laughing. Chris doesn’t know who scolds them, saying they’d better not wake up the kids, it’s probably Anna, but either way they ignore it.

They end up dishevelled, shirts crumpled and all sweaty, lying on the grass.

Chris stands up before Pratt and Hemsworth, who cheered for him the whole time, doesn’t have the time to warn him when Pratt attacks him in his back. So low of him, the coward. Chris fights back and another very gentle “I swear to god if you wake up the kids you’ll deal with it yourselves guys,” resounds in the garden and Chris is sure now that it’s Anna’s voice.

Eventually, after they’ve been trying to kill each other and prove who’s the strongest for a few minutes, they take a break and try to catch their breaths, frantic and worn out. They ultimately agree they’re too old for this and, still out of breath they walk back to Hemsworth, who is now starting to put meat above the fire. 

He’s not as blissful as usual but it’s probably because he had a bad night with the kids. Tom mentioned earlier one of them had mumps and it was kind of hell home this past few nights. He’s still smiley and happy but he doesn’t look like he’s usual self. Tired, sure, but it looks like there’s something else he’s not talking about. After all it’d be selfish to think only Sebastian and Chris had a bad week. Still, he’s being incredibly quiet and Chris wonders why.

Still managing to keep Pratt’s hands away from anything flammable, they finish getting everything cooked. Pratt makes nearly all of the conversation, talkative as he is, Chris answers and follows his train of thoughts trying to ignore that demonic voice in his chest and Hemsworth flashes a few smiles at them. They’re both sensing something is clearly wrong with him and it’s not fatigue only, Pratt questions Chris with a look and Chris shrugs. No clue. They silently decide to not speak a word about it until later, giving Hemsworth the chance to talk about it first before they start enquiring.

Dinner goes peacefully and Chris definitely agrees Jeremy and Scarlett were right to propose this night. At least for Sebastian, he’s laughing and smiling again, seems to have an interesting conversation with Anna and it makes Chris happy. It’s a tough road but eventually Sebastian’s gonna be fine again. It’s just a bad week and a few more ahead of him; of course he’ll always be distrustful and people will always find a way to shove those pictures to his face again, but he’ll be fine. He’s strong, he can get through this.

They’re all gathered around the table, all laughing, talking, chatting, exchanging and it’s what Chris always dreamt of, it’s what family feels like, or what it should be like. Of course it’s not perfect, not yet at least, but it’s on a right path, or it seems so. Chris is happy, and in love, and yes he’s got bad temper but he’s working on it, yes alcohol is a problem but he’s been fighting it so hard lately. Yes, he’s not sure he knows how to handle the whole _Jeremy-and-Scarlett-are-having-a-kid_ situation yet but it shouldn’t be one of his concern; he’s got Sebastian after all, it’s just the surprise of the announcement. He’ll feel better about it tomorrow.

This picture gives him something to hold on to, it’s hope. They’re a family, a bit twisted and unconventional, but a family.

It’s almost midnight when Scarlett happily uses the pregnant card for the first time ever to ask the Chrises to clear the table and bring back the dessert in the kitchen. They aim to please and Chris steals a kiss from Sebastian before joining his friends, plates in his hands as they all carry something back inside.

As he puts everything down Chris can’t help but notice Hemsworth is really not like himself anymore. It got worse as the night went on, he’s not even pretending and faking smiles anymore and he’s way too quiet. It bothers Chris. They always talk it out when something’s wrong, that’s how they kept this friendship going on for so long. They discuss, exchange, on everything. Hemsworth is not smiling anymore, not even trying to and Chris wants to know why and if he can help.

“You sure you’re okay?” Chris asks cautiously, “you’ve been quiet all night.”

Hemsworth avoids his eyes, avoids Pratt’s gaze too and turns to the sink to rinse a first plate, making Chris and Pratt share a worried look.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Pratt asks.

Hemsworth looks at Pratt this time and he turns the water off. Understanding he’s not going away with his secret, he looks at Chris before travelling back and forth between both his friends for a few seconds.

Chris worries more. “You know you can tell us, right? Whatever’s bothering you?”

Hemsworth sighs. “Yeah, yeah I know...”

“So what is it then?” Pratt asks him kindly, a hand on his back, "is it serious?"

“I –hm,” Hemsworth starts before clearing his throat. He turns again to face Chris this time but still avoiding too much eye-contact, leaning against the sink. “Alright, I guess -I guess I should tell you about it.”

Chris sits back against the table, attentive, expecting the worst now. Pratt looks concerned too, out of the three of them Hemsworth is the most discreet one, always has been. He’s a ball of energy, sure, but he’s discreet. They wait, wait until Hemsworth wants to speak but nothing seems to come out.

No words until, “I –I,” he swallows, “I don’t know how to say it.”

The fact he sounds on the edge of tears doesn’t help Chris to stop worrying. “Is it about Tom? The kids?” he inquires, tries to help. Tom did say one of the kids was sick, maybe it’s worse than what they said.

“No, no,” Hemsworth answers too fast. “Well not really.” He looks at both of Chris and Pratt again and then glances by the window, everybody else having fun on the veranda. They can all hear them chatting from the kitchen. “It’s just, I’ve been thinking about it and…” Hemsworth takes a deep breath, “I want to take a break,” he drops, “after the world tour, I mean, and then I’m out.”

“From the band?” Pratt asks in disbelief before Chris can start to think. “I mean, are you sure?”

Chris hasn’t even processed the words yet, he’s not sure he heard them well and they both get into a conversation Chris can’t follow. That can’t be true, he thinks, they’ve been together for so long there’s no way it stops like this but they keep talking, and everything becomes a little more real at each spoken word.

“I need to spend more time home, with the kids, with Tom,” he tells Pratt because Chris isn’t listening anymore, barely hearing the words without being able to put a meaning behind them. It’s like he’s about to pass out, the same feeling when you can hear everything but it seems so far away, so abstract, you can’t move. He feels like that right now, he can’t move, heart pounding in his chest. Knees weak and head spinning lightly. He feels out of his body.

“Our marriage has been falling apart lately.” Hemsworth keeps talking and Chris only hears fragments of their conversation. “I need to make it right, you know?”

Chris is looking in their direction but it’s all blur, air caught in his tight throat. His mouth gets dryer as he tries to swallow the lump growing in his throat. Dry, too dry to let air get to his lungs. That can’t be, it’s just a nightmare and he’s going to wake up. Hemsworth can’t leave, the band can’t stop, it just – _it can’t stop._ Not like this, not now. Not now that he’s putting his life together.

“I hope you guys understand,” Hemsworth adds, Pratt’s hand is on his shoulder when Chris looks up.

“You’re leaving?” Chris finally manages to breathe, mouthing the words from the tip of his lips like it’s acidic poison.

“My family needs me,” Hemsworth answers, looking back in Chris’ direction. “It’s just a break, I’m not leaving definitely. I just… I need some time with my family, that’s all.”

The fact he uses the word family hurts Chris. He always thought he was a part of his family. He’s the godfather of one of his kids. He’s been his friend since they were ten years old, but Hemsworth doesn’t seem to see it this way and it hurts. Maybe he’s selfish, maybe he’s not right to see it that way but that’s how he feels about the situation. He’s implying Chris isn’t part of his family anymore.

And it gets to Chris after the shock that it’s true, he can’t recall seeing him and Tom close tonight. They’re always together, smiling, glancing at each other and making weird faces, laughing and all. He didn’t even saw them kiss tonight. Not once. They weren’t sitting next to each other either.

Chris takes a minute to process everything and they leave him the space he needs, continuing their conversation loud enough that Chris can hear if he wants to. It’s okay, he tells himself, it’s okay because they’re still friends. Chris tries to reassure himself but there’s that little creature inside that seize the opportunity of letting its voice be heard. Chris fights it, thinking louder. Sweat dripping down his forehead. Hemsworth isn’t leaving _him_ , just the band. He’s still his friend. It’s okay, Chris repeats non-stop until a hand is on his back. Fingers pressing on a sunburned skin.

“Hey,” a voice calls, “hey, Chris it’s just for a little while, okay? It doesn’t change anything else.”

“Yeah,” Chris nods, swallows, disbelieving. “Yeah.”

It’s true, it’s… true. It doesn’t change anything about their friendship, right? Maybe it’s a good thing, maybe they could all use a break; after all they’ve been working together for nearly twenty years now. It’s a long time, it’s two third of their lives it’s just… for those two-third of his life Chris had nothing but them, but their band. That’s not true anymore, he’s got Sebastian yes but it’s just the perspective of it, of losing all he’s ever known, it scares him. Frightens him. Cold inside.

Chris doesn’t know what to do if that’s not working with these two guys. That’s all he’s ever known. Chris tries with all his might to not break and cry in front of them, but it’s so hard with those voices inside him and those demons back laughing at him. Mocking him because he’s weak to care so much about anything.

“I’m sorry,” Hemsworth says, “I didn’t want to break that out like this, with that whole thing with Sebastian… You’ve got other things to think and care about.”

That sends a shock through Chris. What? This has nothing to do with Sebastian and there's a hint of annoyance perceptible in his voice when he asks, “d’you think I don’t care about the band anymore?”

“That’s not what I mean,” Hemsworth answers, “Chris that’s not what I meant.”

“But that’s what you said,” Chris accuses, tone angrier. “That’s what you just said.”

“No,” Hemsworth replies trying to stay calm because he knows Chris too well. They all know him too well and Chris doesn’t know himself the slightest. “No,” Hemsworth repeats, “I said I wanted to tell you later because you have priorities, and right now it’s being supportive to your boyfriend who’s going through a tough time, just like I need to stick with my husband because _we’re_ going through a hard time. That's all.”

“You think I can’t do both? Seb and the band?”

“C’mon that’s not what I said,” Hemsworth answers, frowning, “you’re twisting my words again.”

“Right, ‘cause I never understand anything,” Chris grumbles, angry again while he knows he’s reacting stupidly. He knows but he can’t stop himself.

“Chris,” Pratt calls this time, or scolds actually.

“Oh you’ve got a voice now?” Chris finds himself answering.

“What the hell does that mean?” He asks back eyes widening, “I’m not gonna tie him to a chair and force him to stay in the band, and honestly Chris, I could use a break too.”

Chris scoffs with fear and sadness, feeling his whole world crashing down again. It’s the worst week of his life and he’s so tired of hopping between hope and happiness and anger and sadness. He’s tired of shutting those inner demons to get them burst out in laughter just a few hours later.

“Good,” Chris says lowly, “so now you both wanna leave now.”

“It’s not definitive,” Hemsworth lets out, a little more annoyed by Chris’ reaction. “We’ve been doing this for twenty years Chris, don’t you think we earned a break?”

Chris is about to answer but Pratt speaks before Chris can. “Okay, let’s not ruin this night guys and fight, hm?” He says, “It was great so far and I don’t want to ruin it for Jeremy and Scarlett okay? We can talk about it later, privately but we should get back outside now.”

Chris nods. Yeah, outside, fresh air, Sebastian, yeah, good. Sebastian always calms him down, he’ll help him here again. Pratt and Hemsworth carries the pies outside and Chris follows right behind. They don’t trust him with the dessert and rightly so, Chris would have drop them, not caring enough about the pies. He’s not even hungry anymore.

It’s complete silent when they step outside, painfully silent. The kind of quiet before the storm; or after, depends how many storms there are tonight. Chris wouldn’t be so surprised with another one. He’s a magnet, he attracts bad luck everywhere, all the time. They weren’t yelling so there isn’t any reason for them to know about their argument so the question is, what is it now? What else is going to ruin this night? Chris looks around, meets Jeremy’s gaze before his eyes scans for Sebastian, Scarlett is next to him, kneeling at his feet and holding his hands.

“Seb?” Chris calls. What the fuck happened again? Sebastian looks up, eyes red and wet, lips quivering; he looks emotionally wrecked. Nearly as bad as when Chris found him on the floor. “Baby, what’s wrong?” Chris asks, striding to him. “What happened?!”

Sebastian hides his face against Chris’ shirt, against his stomach. Chris looks around again, looks at everyone. Scarlett all sad at his feet, Jeremy stern and cold in front of him, Tom stroking Sebastian’s back affectionately. Nobody is saying a word but they all know. They’re all acting like they know and it infuriates Chris that nobody is willing to say what’s wrong, why Sebastian’s crying in his arms again while he was fine five minutes ago.

Chris looks around again, trying to find someone that will speak. Jeremy is gritting his teeth. Tom is apologetically looking at Sebastian weeping on Chris’ abdomen, Scarlett is holding his hands.

“More pictures,” Anna breathes out seeing nobody wants to spill it.

Chris sighs, presses Sebastian closer against him, petting his hair. His jaw contracts, he looks across of him, Jeremy as tensed as he is. Chris is seething again. Raging inside. Why the fuck is karma desperately taking it out on Sebastian? Is it because of him? Because if that’s a warning Sebastian should leave him, Chris gets it, now that’s enough.

Chris bends over slightly to kiss the top of Sebastian’s head. “Wanna go home?” he asks as he stops himself from biting his lip too hard.

Sebastian nuzzles his shirt, nodding. “Okay,” Chris whispers, “okay.”

He looks at Jeremy who gets up without thinking. The night is ruined now anyway. Scarlett does too and the goodbyes are kind of awkward with the rest of his friends. Chris stays with Sebastian as long as he can before it gets really impolite of him to not say goodbye. He’s not in the mood for proper goodbyes, and he’s a bit angry after his friends for breaking up the band. Sebastian wipes his tears away before Tom invites him in a hug. He whispers something to him that make Sebastian laughs through his tears and Chris wishes he’d heard it.

It’s not long before they all reach the car and then the whole ride is quiet. Sebastian is leaning on Chris, resting against his chest. Chris tries to comfort him while all he really wants is to punch something. Jeremy wouldn’t be too happy if he’d break something in his car so Chris just holds Sebastian’s hand. He stares at them, plays with his rings, anything to help him relax.

Chris gets furious when they get back to his place and paparazzi are still waiting outside. More of them, he’s sure. Jeremy warns him this time, seeing Chris raging, the manager overshadowing the friend. “Chris, behave,” he says seriously.

He repeats it a second time, Sebastian’s puppy eyes looking up at Chris through his eyelashes. Chris is all tensed, infuriated. Scarlett steps in too, seeing the look on Chris’ face she knows too well. “Chris, just go home, don’t pay attention to them or what they say. Take Sebastian home.”

“D’you want us to come with?” Jeremy wonders. It’s mostly because he fears Chris might take Sebastian’s place in the media if he makes a butchery in front of his building and because he’s seen earlier that, pushed a little too far, Chris is still capable of violence. Even though Chris wants to believe without Scarlett’s intervention, he would have stopped himself, he still grabbed Jeremy tight by the collar.

Chris keeps his eyes on Sebastian, all puffy and teary. “No, I’m good,” he answers, not sure he should trust himself. “Ready?” Chris asks Sebastian and he doesn’t look ready at all, but truth be told neither is Chris.

“Just don’t hit anyone,” Jeremy says as Chris opens the door. Chris glances at him, truly not amused. That’s not a joke. Chris understands it as soon as he meets Jeremy’s eyes. He’s being dead serious.

“Stay behind me,” Chris says firmly when he takes Sebastian by the hand and lead the way. He tries really hard to obey his manager’s order. Oh he wants to hit someone and break some teeth, but Sebastian squeezing his hand helps him to stride to the building. He promised him, he promised him earlier that he wouldn’t hit anyone he repeats that promise again and over again to himself.

The doorman closes the door behind them and Chris pulls Sebastian closer to wrap his arm around his lower back as they keep walking. Sebastian snuggles in his arms in the elevator and Chris wraps him fully, rocks him as he can hear him sniffling again. He holds him, so tight and quietly. A hand over his back and one petting his hair and stroking his neck. Sebastian’s completely breaking down now, hidden from anyone but Chris and Chris can’t even find the strength to shush him. He lets Sebastian evacuate all he needs to.

Chris doesn’t turn on the lights once home, just the open curtains are enough to enlighten the room with the city lights of a bright night. He helps Sebastian to undress and barely bothers to get rid of his own clothes before joining him under the sheets.

Chris strokes his back. Silently. He can’t stand to hear Sebastian cry anymore, there’s nothing he can do about it. Every times he tries to do something he ends up making it worse and Chris is just so done with all of this, with this day and this week and just with everything. He feels sick at this thought but he’s just so done with Sebastian crying because it makes him feel so bad and he can’t stand it anymore.

Chris can’t stand to not be the boyfriend he deserves. One who would hold him all night and soothe him and console him and everything. Chris is not that guy and Sebastian crying and weeping makes him realise he’s not the guy he deserves. Sebastian deserves so much better. He deserves someone who will not cringe with despair when he starts crying again.

“What have I done to deserve this?” Sebastian sobs against his chest and Chris can hear how hard it is for him to breathe. It hurts to hear Sebastian say those words. Chris looks down, infuriated deep inside but mostly heartbroken by his expression.

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” Chris tries to reassure him, trying to control his voice but he’s said those words so many times these past few days he’s sure Sebastian doesn’t believe them anymore.

Sebastian keeps crying against his chest.

“Baby,” Chris starts again, “it’s just… that’s how fame works. One day they love you and then put you on a pedestal and next thing you know you blink and the pedestal turned into a gallows. I’m sorry–” Chris dives in his teary eyes. “You’ve done nothing wrong,” he says again because even though Sebastian doesn’t believe those words anymore, Chris does. He kisses his forehead and Sebastian drops his head on Chris’ chest again.

Chris loves him, he does, so much but as soon as Sebastian breaks the eye-contact, all Chris cares about is laughs inside him. Sebastian’s crying on his chest but all he can hear are his inner demons waking up at the midnight call. He can pretend all he wants; he’s just selfishly focusing on them.

Sebastian doesn’t take long to fall asleep, it’s probably just a light slumber because he must be so exhausted of everything, of this whole week and it surprises Chris but he can’t say he’s not glad. He doesn’t know what to do and say anymore, he’s feeling like the worst boyfriend ever again. At this point he believes it with all his heart. He’s the worst and Sebastian doesn’t deserve that. All Chris is good at is fucking him whenever Sebastian wants to but that’s it. All Chris can give him is a few orgasms and a fake feeling of love and safety. Chris can’t protect him, he never could, not from the world, not from himself.

So Chris lays in the bed and a tear escape his eye. He sighs. Grit his teeth. Swallows. He hates this whole world. He hates being himself.

He watches Sebastian nuzzling his face on his chest and tries to move away from him without waking him up and then sits on the edge of the bed. Face in hands, Chris glances back at Sebastian who seems to find a better position to sleep in. Without him.

Chris doesn’t know what to do with himself. He’s too wide awake to attempt to fall asleep, he can’t distract himself by watching something; doesn’t want to take the risk of waking Sebastian up. So he wanders around the room for a bit. Thinking. Over-thinking.

The band. The pictures. Sebastian. An endless circle until it’s enough thinking.

Chris gnaws his short nails, stares at the kitchen. He wants to apologize out loud, peeking at Sebastian, but he walks up to it. He grabs the bottle of whisky he used last time he had Jeremy over the phone and Sebastian was taking a shower, and Chris drinks from it.

Again.

And again.

It’s harsh in his throat and it’s hot and raw and it feels good. So bad that it’s good. He leans against the fridge right next to him, drops on the floor, wincing as he hit his head against it. He’s trying to choke his sobs and feels pathetic. And selfish. And awful and weak. There’s just so much going on. Chris is trying to not lose his mind but everything gets so scary around. He’s drowning with the lights of the city flashing in the room, enlightening his faithful demons on the white walls.

He’s lost in dark woods and the line between nightmare and reality isn’t perceptible anymore. There’s no light, no sun, no moon. No stars. Nothing but dark and piercing, frightening noises. Little demons laughing and dancing around the grave he lies in.

A murmur, loud and clear inside tells him to drink again, drink until everything fades. Until everything becomes numb and he stops caring. The bottle in his hand is so tempting and holds the light and hopes Chris needs. Drink and you’ll feel better, you’ll forget, that’s what it’s whispering to lure him to drink again. It’s just so tempting, the voice is convincing and Chris drinks to numb the pain.

But the voice is mean and laughs, saying Chris is weak to give in so easily. So Chris drinks more, to shut the voice down, drown it. It’s his mind but he can’t mute it. He’s thirsty and everything spins around because he keeps drinking more.

The band. His friends. The pictures. Sebastian.

_His band._

He doesn’t know what to do without it. Without his friends. He dedicated his whole life to this band and these two guys and Hemsworth just blew it all up. Just because he’s got a family. He says they need him like Chris doesn’t. Like Chris doesn’t need his best-friend. What the fuck is he supposed to do after the world tour? Wither and decay slowly?

And Sebastian, crying, and crying and Chris can’t find a single thing to do about it. He doesn’t know how to handle the situation, how to handle him and his tears. If even it was Chris’ fault… but it’s not. It’s not Sebastian’s either and it’s just so unfair. He’s the sweetest kid on the planet he doesn’t deserve this. Chris can’t help but wonder if it’s his fault somehow. It must be. Has to be. He always brings down everyone with him. He’s crumbling down, holding tight on that tablecloth as he falls down the pit, destroying the precious porcelain of golden hearts on his way. It has to be his fault. Everything always is, why would it be different this time?

He laughs, drinks again.

Again, because the voice tears off its strap and laughs loudly to mock him.

Chris really wants to yell right now. His whole body tensing, every muscle contracting. His jaw clenching. He inhales sharply through his teeth. Fuck it, just fuck everything just –he drinks again. Raging inside. Boiling with hatred, aversion, repugnance. He hates himself. He hates the guy he is and he hates his demons and that voice and those walls illuminating scary frames.

“Babe?” Sebastian’s little voice calls and it’s closer than Chris would expect it to be. He’s standing next to the counter; Chris didn’t hear him waking up nor his footsteps. His voice is low and soft, worried and probably a bit scared.

Chris wants to laugh through his tears, of course he must be scared. Chris is scared of himself. He was scared of the demons when they were sleeping inside him, they’re just wide awake now, dancing around his grave and it’s terrifying. But they laugh so beautifully, they’re not mocking him, they’re happy, celebrating and loving him. That’s the creature in his chest who’s mocking him.

Chris breathes audibly, trying to relax, to control himself. He’s scared but he doesn’t _want_ to scare Sebastian. Sebastian takes that as a sign to move closer, cautious of his steps. He kneels next to Chris and Chris refuses to meet his eyes. Sebastian brushes his hair and Chris turns his face away, biting his thumb. He can’t look at him. He’s so pitiful. Pity is the worst. He can hear Sebastian mouthing words, trying to find which ones to use.

“Talk to me?” Sebastian chooses to say.

Chris’ teeth sink into his bottom lip, jaw clenching again. Sebastian’s fingertips caresses his hair lightly again and Chris brings the bottle to his lips. Another gulp. He shakes his head lightly as he puts the bottle down again. He can sense how worried and preoccupied Sebastian is as Chris keeps his distance from him. For a good reason.

“Look at me?” Sebastian tries again, fingers ghosting on Chris’ chin, not forcing him to turn his face but trying to get him to do it. Chris lowers his face slightly to leave a kiss on his fingers, let him know it’s not against him. Not about him, although it’s a lie. Sebastian moves his hand to stroke his cheek with the back of his hand and Chris rests against it.

So smooth, so soft. So innocent. 

The whole apartment is quiet. Not a single sound besides their breathings, just the outside world giving the apartment some kind of life. Sirens. People. Cars. New York City diving into a new kind of life, night one. Car lights flashing inside the room and drawing more shadows on the walls. This is exactly how Chris’ nightmares start each time.

He can’t tell the difference now. Sebastian’s no more incandescent. He’s not smiling as bright as the sun. He’s barely a spark from a broken lighter. Lighter. Smoke. Cigarette. Chris craves one. He quit smoking for Sebastian, because he wanted to make him proud. No way he’s proud to see him lay here like this.

Wait until it gets worse, the deep monstrous voice says and Chris slaps the made-up body he strapped to a chair. _Shut the fuck up._

The room is quiet. It’s too quiet and Chris lifts the bottle again, put neck to his lips. Sebastian waits for him to swallow before trying to grasp the bottle with one hand, his long fingers wrapping around it, around Chris’ fingers. Chris doesn’t let him, grips tighter. Sebastian doesn’t insist.

“Put it down,” he murmurs with a small hesitant voice. “Please?”

Chris struggles between knowing it’s the best choice and wanting to get so fucking wasted he can’t remember what happened this past week. The second option seems so fucking tempting. He takes another sip and Sebastian grabs his forearm, holding it without using strength, it’s just there. It’s just there, silently begging and making Chris feel so incredibly guilty. Sebastian makes his hand slide along his skin until it meets Chris’ hand again.

“Please,” he repeats, voice wrecking. “Chris…”

He can hear the pity in his tone and Chris just snaps. Shoves the bottle out of Sebastian’s hand to put it back down on the floor in a loud rumble, so pissed; wanting to bite his own tongue. Sebastian flinches at the sound and Chris looks right at him.

“I’m sorry,” Chris says fast, “I’m sorry I didn’t want to –”

“It’s okay,” Sebastian whispers back, apprehensive. Still apprehensive. Afraid and Chris wants to yell again because he never meant to scare him.

“No! No, that’s not ok–I’m sorry,” Chris insists. Sebastian flinched. _Flinched._ Sebastian nods now, his tongue sneaking out to wet his lower lip before swallowing. It’s not teasing, it’s fear. He nods again, looking in Chris’ eyes, his hand brushing his cheek, wiping a tear of rage.

“Are you scared of me?” Chris dares to ask with his own fear hopping on the words. He needs to know but he’s terrified of the answer. Sebastian just flinched and it’s not just the noise. He’s… scaring him. Really scaring him. Sebastian is scared of him. Right now. Of what Chris could do, physically do or say. Not drinking, that’s not… He’s not afraid of Chris drinking. That’s not why he flinched and it’s not the sound of the bottle meeting the hard floor.

Sebastian shakes his head lightly, pinching his lips together, looking at him kindly. He doesn’t want to answer the question either and Chris’ heart squeezes, so hard he’s afraid it might be a heart-attack for a second. It hurts, contracts in his chest like someone is trying to compress it until it explodes. He’s never been more aware of owning a heart until now that it's breaking for real.

“I’d never hurt you,” Chris whispers, feeling so bad. He tries to breathe but fails then tries again. “You know that, right?” he adds, hearing his own voice wrecking in pain and tears, “I’d never touch you, it’s just –”

“I know,” Sebastian cuts him, voice so soft and soothing, his hand slowly moves up to his cheek, carefully. “It’s too much, I know,” he leans in close, careful, to press their lips together. Just a second. His hand so warm on his skin. “You’d never hurt me,” he says inches away from Chris’ mouth, his nose brushing his. “I know that.”

Chris gasps, fails to breath again. A new tear rolling on his cheek. “I’d never hurt you,” he repeats, unsure if it’s mean to reassure Sebastian or himself. With Jeremy it’s different, he knows Jeremy can match, he trusts Jeremy to put Chris back to his place and kick his ass when he needs to. Jeremy knows Chris perfectly well, too well. Jeremy’s always ready to take the risk it might all end up in a fist fight but Chris is in love with Sebastian, he’d never hurt him. He’d rather hurt himself than to put a finger on him.

“There’s something else isn’t it?” Sebastian asks as he pulls away, the palm of his hand comfortable on Chris’ cheek.

Chris still can’t understand how Sebastian can figure him out so easily while he’s a total mystery to himself. He makes no sense, just a drunk asshole with fears haunting and hunting him down until he breaks and gives in but Sebastian puts the pieces of his puzzle life together. He makes each piece tell a story each time and it’s baffling how fast. Faster than anyone else.

“There’s no band anymore,” Chris laughs and cries at the same time. It’s so easy to let out, surprisingly. He sniffles and Sebastian’s fingers are so light on his cheek, so soft, so sweet. So unreal. He’s dreaming, isn’t he?

“What?” Sebastian asks and Chris can’t tell if it’s because he didn’t speak clearly enough, or if Sebastian’s shocked by the news or something else but whatever it is, it irritates him to have to repeat himself.

“There’s no fucking band anymore!” he repeats louder, as the tears keeps coming up to wet his eyes.

Chris nearly shouts it from the top of his lungs because it’s how deep he needs to dig the pain from. Because that’s right, once Hemsworth leaves he’s pretty sure he won’t come back, despites what he said. He’s going to want this life once he tastes having his family around him that much, he’d be a fool not to. And if _maybe_ he does come back, then chances are Pratt will be the one not wanting to come back. It’s over. They’re over. Done. The band is history and Chris is done.

It means that much to him, it’s like ripping off the skin of his body inch by inch. Set him on fire while putting needles under his nails, torturing him slowly. Put salt on every open wound. That’s how much this band means to him, taking it away is like killing him in a hundred different ways and all at once.

They’re done. The band is dead, and Chris is too.

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian murmurs, “Chris I’m sorry, I know how much it means to you.”

Chris chortles again, he laughs and it’s pitiable. He pities himself. That sounds even more awful when Sebastian says it aloud. Sebastian says sorry like Chris said sorry about the pictures. He says sorry like Chris says “it’s not your fault.” Sebastian knows it’s painful, he knows it hurts but the words are flat and bland. They’re said with so much feeling, so many good intentions but they’re just insipidly flat. They’re not helpful, they’re just pity and Chris loathes it.

“Fuck,” Chris laughs again, probably looking like some kind of maniac, before it turns into a painful sob again.

He pushes Sebastian’s hand away as nicely as he possibly can and passes a hand over his face, his bristly beard scratching the flesh of his fingers. He growls, chocking the sound in his mouth; groans as he blocks the sound down his throat. He wants to yell so much, so loud. His mouth opens and closes in pain, distress, teeth so hard and deep in his bottom lip.

Chris starts getting agitated, hitting the back of his head against the fridge again, breathing through his wet mouth because he needs to move, needs to do something. Feel something. So numb. The voice is talking and the demons are laughing and he hits as hard as he can hoping he’ll knock them out.

“Chris,” Sebastian calls, afraid again if not terrified, “Chris, baby, calm down.”

And it’s _so_ wrong but Chris wants to tell him to just shut up. Just shut up because it’s so loud in his brain already and Sebastian’s voice, and his tone and everything is abominable. Everything is loud and painful and Sebastian’s voice is wrecking because he’s scared and sorry and on the verge of tears. And Chris is the reason why and he just wants to hit the back of his head harder. It’s just so loud and all at once and it’s unbearable.

Sebastian’s hand grabs his cheek, forcing Chris to look at him this time. “Hey, stop,” Sebastian tries to say louder, “stop it please, I’m here, it’s okay. Baby it’s okay, you’re not alone.”

Chris leans on his hand, his cheek fitting against the heart of his delicate hand and his thin fingers right under his jaw. Chris’ teeth lightly bite the palm of Sebastian’s hand, mostly mouthing over it.

“I’m here,” Sebastian tells him again before Chris yanks his head away from his hand.

“And those fucking pictures!” He yells at the ceiling like it’s guilty of everything. Chris breathes again through his teeth, grunting lowly before breathing the drool back in his mouth, closing his eyes forcefully. “I love you,” Chris says, repeats again so he’s sure Sebastian hears how much he does. “I love you –” Chris cries painfully, realising where this is going, hitting his head against the fridge over again.

“But?” Sebastian asks in terrified murmur that forces Chris to think of an answer when he was just saying whatever went through his mind. He knows whatever will escape his mouth will hurt Sebastian no matter what, because he can’t find filters to use. It's already hard to do sober, but he's drunk and distressed, he's got no power over his mouth, he's got no power over anything. 

“But I can’t stand seeing you like this. I can’t – _Jesus Christ_ can’t see you cry anymore and I’m sorry,” he confesses painfully, “I love so much but I can’t protect you and – _fuck_ I love you but that’s too much. I can’t fucking hear you cry anymore.”

Chris speaks fast, too fast. Sebastian’s gonna think it’s his fault and it’s not. It’s Chris’. It’s his own fault because _he_ can’t handle it. Chris can’t bear that much. He’s failing and he’s weak and the demons are wining again. He was dumb to think he could win this fight. He never stood a chance.

Nothing is up to him. Nothing here is up to him. It’s affecting him directly but he has no control over anything and it’s maddening. He’s helpless, he feels so weak and powerless, so pathetic. He’s got no control over anything and it’s making him ill, physically. Just watch, sit there and watch. Chris can speak, he can act but nothing counts in the end because the decision isn’t his. That’s not his mind, he’s not himself.

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian drops and Chris loses his temper, growling. Screaming down from his throat, so low, sound just passing through his teeth. He’s a violent mess and his demons are dancing, laughing inside, and they won’t shut up. They just won’t fucking shut the hell up and it’s maddening.

“ _God, fuck!_ I don’t want to fucking hear you say that _ever_ again!” Chris barks at Sebastian because that’s all he can do to cover their laughs. They’re so proud of wining and they’re chanting arrogantly but the melody is so sweet and luring.

“It’s not your fault,” Chris says more calmly, meeting Sebastian’s eyes because he can’t stand the idea of raising his voice but he can’t control it. Can’t control himself. Sebastian’s crying, trying to be as silent as possible and Chris hates himself so fucking much. He’s a fucking hypocrite and nothing in the world can excuse his reaction, the tone in his voice. “I’m sorry,” Chris whispers, at least attempting to apologise, “I didn’t mean to yell, I’m sorry.”

Sebastian avoids his eyes and the tears in Chris’ eyes starts to blur his vision. “I’m sorry,” Chris says again, completely breaking down, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Can’t everything just stop. Everything. Just. Stop.

Please?

Sebastian nods, looks in Chris’ direction again. “It’s the alcohol,” he says, finding fake excuses, “it’s not you, it’s okay.” Sebastian can pretend all he want, his voice doesn’t lie, he’s scared. He’s shaking, like an earthquake. Sebastian’s an earthquake and Chris is a hurricane. Sebastian’s reached the heart and he’s going to get hurt really bad.

“It’s not okay,” Chris whispers, apologising for the second time of the night. It’s two times too much. “I love you,” Chris reminds Sebastian but he really wants to say leave while you can because it’s not as low as I can get. Please leave before you open the shell and you notice there isn’t any pearl. You’ve been wasting your time, my heart isn’t gold, and my heart is dirt and dark clouds. Please leave before you get hurt because Chris can’t hurt him.

Not again.

A tear escape Sebastian’s eye and rolls down his cheek, lasting near his lip. “I love you,” he breathes back slowly. “Come back to bed,” he asks Chris, “I’m freezing without you.” He tries to smile but it’s obviously more fake than any Chris has ever pulled out.

It’s a bit insulting but Chris’ eyes are falling shut, trying to escape the vision of this nightmare. It’s a nightmare, his life has turned into a dreadful nightmare. He closes them harder, crying more silently. But is it a nightmare now? With eyes close he can’t tell the difference, can’t tell where life starts and stops. It’s just so unreal around him, alcohol poisoning his already damaged brain.

Chris hears Sebastian trying to breathe through his own tears before he pulls Chris against his chest. He kisses his hair, the skin of his forearm so hot against Chris’ cheek. “We’re gonna be okay,” Sebastian says.

“We’re not gonna be okay!” Chris shouts and parts from Sebastian but regrets it immediately. He buries his face back deeper against Sebastian’s tiny body, his chin right above his head. Hoping he’ll take him back in his arms. He nearly wants to beg him to hold him closer but he’s so scared of losing his temper, really losing it. Chris doesn’t want to hurt him. He lowers his tone and tries again. “We’re not gonna be okay.”

Chris has already cried so much that there aren’t any more tears left to shed. He doesn’t cry that much nor that easily, at least not anymore. He guesses he’s just somewhat just dead inside by now. Like a sleeping volcano, bursting out for an occasional, unpredictable eruption.

Sebastian waits for Chris to calm down a little more, and to sit back against the fridge. Then he waits for Chris to meet his gaze before he speaks again. “We’re gonna be okay–”

Chris stares, it’s like Sebastian doesn’t understand how bad the situation is. Chris has had rough days but he always had his band and his friends, losing them is like losing himself; he may as well admit defeat right now and not give himself more illusions to hold onto. And if that’s what Sebastian is trying to do it’s not going to work, Chris has enough illusions already.

“–and you know why?”

Chris wants to laugh again but he doesn’t, doesn’t want to look disrespectful. He keeps looking at him and notices Sebastian’s lips quivering, and the tears watering his eyes, ready to drop on his red cheeks. Chris feels like an idiot. Sebastian’s hurt, Sebastian’s had his _privacy_ exposed to everybody on this planet _again_ and yet he’s trying to comfort Chris who just became unemployed.

 _Jesus Christ what a fucking asshole_ , he deserves a fucking medal. He makes such an insensitive boyfriend. He can’t even believe himself right now. Sebastian’s sobbing and all he cares about is getting wasted to escape himself.

He’s got those baby blue eyes inundated, once innocent and yet so wrecked now. Partly because of Chris, but not only. Sebastian has his own demons and Chris only cares about his. Sebastian had his own demons all along and Chris was too selfish to notice. If he had talk to Sebastian, maybe he would have known about those pictures, maybe he could have done something. Or maybe he would have known how to react to them and what to say because he would have known the story. 

Maybe they’ve never been that happy after all, maybe Chris just thought they were.

They’re both so full of his tears and Chris wonders if Sebastian can even see his face through his own. It shatters him. Sebastian’s sad, and scared. Scared of Chris, and his reactions and the fact Chris is scared of himself doesn’t help him to calm down. If Chris can’t control himself –No, they were happy, together, _they were happy._ They can be, again, they can be, together.

His mind is all over the place, so many thoughts and feelings, but they were happy. Sebastian’s still waiting for him to answer, probably thinking he’s trying to find the right answer but Chris says lowly the only one he has. “Because we have each other,” he breathes.

“Because we love each other,” Sebastian echoes.

“I’m sorry,” Chris shakes his head, mouth and eyes wet, “I’m so sorry.”

He regrets everything, drinking, raising his voice, acting like a jackass. Regrets his words and not believing in Sebastian. He regrets this whole night and he thinks back of the afternoon, their shower and everything seemed to get better. It can get better. Again. There are always downs when there are ups. It’s just a slip. They’re on right track, they have to be.

Chris pulls Sebastian to him; lets him fall against his chest, wrapping him in his arms. “I love you,” Chris whispers and Sebastian mumbles it back, the sound of his voice muffled by Chris’ chest.

It’s quiet again, the whole room is but Chris’ brain is wide awake. Blood beating in his temples and a headache so harsh even the demons are covering their ears. Good, they’re busy now, maybe he can start think more clearly.

“You know what?” Chris starts, sniffling, “you’re right.” Enough crying for tonight. For this whole fucking year. Enough drinking too. “I love you,” Chris says, “and I’m not gonna let anyone destroy what we have, not even me.”

All that shit the media has been pulling off those past few months, Chris is gonna make them swallow it back so hard they won’t be able to write anymore. They can try and hurt them, Chris won’t let them. From now on nobody will dictate their happiness but them and he’s had enough watching Sebastian cry and stand there helplessly. Sebastian is going to smile again and he’s gonna rekindle the light in his eyes. If he’s going to have so much free time after the world tour he’s going to put it in good use. He’s going to love that man in all the right ways.

Of course there’s going to be downs, they’re going to face tons of them. Chris is going to slip back, Sebastian is going to be tortured by this for a little longer; maybe all his life. He’ll have nightmare and Chris will have drinks. He can’t imagine stop drinking entirely, he just can’t. Not yet, but maybe one day. Maybe one day, but he can’t get rid of this like he got rid of smoking.

Chris is not going to leave Sebastian and run away this time. He’s not going to back down; he’ll lead them to the moon by the strength of his two legs and carry Sebastian on his back if he needs to. He’ll face sandstorms and thunderstorms alike. He’ll build him a bridge to Mars and make him dance with the stars. That’s what Sebastian deserves, and so much more.

Not Chris complaining about his lot in life, not lamenting about his terrible fate. Not drinking, lying on the floor until he passes out. Sebastian doesn’t deserve this human wreck. Chris should fight, not back down, not give in, he asked Sebastian to keep fighting all week, and he _has_ to do the same.

Sebastian wipes his tears against his chest, so small in his arms. Chris looks down and Sebastian looks up at him through his eyelashes. Chris carefully moves away and gets up on his feet, he grabs the nearly empty bottle on the floor and Sebastian watches, worried.

“Do you trust me?” Chris asks seeing how nervous Sebastian is.

Sebastian nods softly so Chris makes two steps towards the sink and pours what’s left in the bottle in it. A quick smile appears on Sebastian’s lips and it disappears right away. Chris puts down the now empty bottle nearby and walks back to Sebastian, giving him his hand to help him get up. Sebastian contemplates it before he accepts it. Chris’ arm contracts as he literally lifts him up on his feet, Sebastian having no strength left to use.

Sebastian’s standing close to him, against his chest. So little. Chris carefully cups his chin, making him look up at him. “Do you forgive me?”

Sebastian nods again still as softly. “I do,” he murmurs almost soundless.

“I’m gonna make it up to you,” Chris vows, “I’m gonna make love to you all night and the whole city’s gonna hear how much I love you, because I love you, Sebastian. I love you,” Chris says as the smell of whisky lingers on his breath. “I love you so fucking much and I’m sorry about this. I’m so sorry you had to see this. I’m gonna make it up to you, I promise.”

“Wait,” Sebastian drops, soft voice and his hand pressing on Chris’ chest as he was ready to kiss him.

“What is it?” Chris worries, scanning his face. _Oh please still want me._

“Promise me that was the last time,” Sebastian murmurs because the words seem painful to let out. “ _Please_ ,” he adds and Chris stares voiceless, lump in throat and shame invading his chest. “Promise me,” Sebastian asks, then begs, “ _promise me, Chris._ ”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Chris answers, “I’m sorry.” 

He’s dancing around to avoid and face the truth. Fake reality is better than living a nightmare and alcohol is sweetly making Chris believe he can walk on water. He kisses Sebastian’s cheek, his neck, loving, adoring, devoted and Sebastian melts for a short instant. Lets himself getting blind by sweet lips full of carnal promises on his skin.

“Chris,” Sebastian calls, hands on his chest and face pressing against his. “Promise me you’re done drinking.” He’s tired, that’s clear in his voice, not just physically, Sebastian’s tired of everything, but he’s hopeful. He wants to hear it. He wants to hear Chris says he promise, so Chris does.

“I promise you baby,” Chris says and he can’t tell if he’s lying yet or not. “I promise you,” he repeats but doesn’t make it any more believable. Chris doesn’t want to know, doesn’t want to wonder because he already knows the answer deep down and the truth isn’t as beautiful as he’d wish. He kisses Sebastian again, everywhere.

Sebastian stops fighting back and lets himself go in Chris’ mendacious arms, because it’s always easier to believe a lie we want to hear from the lips we want to kiss. And Sebastian is going to spread the lie to the whole city.


	7. I wanna kiss your scars tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took me so long to update this story, with everything that happened in Paris recently and uni and other stuff I didn't get a lot of free time to spend on Ao3, but it's here now! The last chapter! Yay! 
> 
> Title from The Fray's song "Heartbeat."
> 
> Oh, and I also want to apologise in advance because this chapter wasn't Beta'd at all. Believe me, I'm really sorry about that.

 

Chris did keep his promise that night. He made it clear for the whole neighbourhood, if not the entire city and the paparazzi down the building that Sebastian and him loved each other, that they’d stick with each other through everything, no matter what. Chris convinced everyone, including himself and Sebastian too, for a while.

But the thing is, Chris is a gun, a half-loaded gun.

Everybody told them how much of a bad idea they thought it was. They warned them this relationship would go nowhere. They said it was stupid, reckless, they said they should know better than to throw themselves in this gigantic mess; Chris and Sebastian did know better, that’s why they tried anyway.

Sebastian pulled the trigger first and he got lucky. Empty shot. They took a deep breath, ignored the rest of the world and began to enjoy their precious and safe little bubble together; warm and cosy and so full of love, empty of any criticism.

They took their chance and it worked until the adrenaline eventually faded, and the warnings crept in again, friendly voices coming to their ears to resonate them. They ignored the unpleasant noises, the warnings, and a second detonation drowned out the voices and gossips: another empty chamber.

They got lucky again and, in the euphoria of feeling alive, they lost themselves in each other’s arms a little more, choosing to ignore all the voices, the warnings and advices again because they knew better. And it kept going, because there isn’t one thing in this world worse than dependence and addiction, nothing sweeter than love and affection. Skin craves skin like lips yearn to be kissed. Hands need to touch and bodies to be loved. And how much did those two needed to be loved…

But both love and affection are as tough as they’re sweet; love is selfish and affection lies. Love is blind but sets the rest of your senses are on fire: their perfume is the natural scent you wake up to every morning and their fingertips seem to put a spell on wherever they brush. The taste of their lips becomes the quintessence of home and the sound of their voice can soothe the darkest of your nightmares. You don’t care if you lose sight because you have trust instead.

Sebastian surely didn’t care; he trusted Chris, blindly.

Chris’ arms always felt like a shelter, a refuge, a safe heaven and when he pulled the trigger, Sebastian hoped for another harmless shot. He nearly forgot the gun was loaded all along, but a loud noise rumbled in his ears, making it impossible to ignore.

The bullet carved its way into Sebastian’s skin, leaving a scar for as long as he’ll be breathing because they chose to take the chance. They both knew the risks, but Sebastian decided the prize was more important; Chris was more important.

He put his heart on the line because Sebastian trusted Chris, blindly.

Sebastian said, swore he was fine. He told himself he was okay, told himself he could bear the pain because Chris was worth it. He ignored the hole in his chest but Chris’ bullet dissolved, becoming a disease in his blood, getting to his mind and messing with it; it got to his heart and made it hard to beat.

Chris has always been more like poison, less like a gun. His bullets don’t just hit, they infiltrate your body and they hurt from the inside. They parch your throat, suck out the air from your lungs and make your knees go weak. It’s drought inside of you, and he’s the lake in the desert, the mirage luring you to your loss. Chris is that addictive adrenaline. Chris is that heavenly lake in the searing sandstorm.

Sebastian got shot and he came back to it, habit, compulsion, addiction, dependence, obsession, need, craving; because loving Chris is as simple as breathing. Sebastian only realised how deep he did once he couldn’t fill his lungs anymore because they were so full already, of love and hope, of words he wanted to hear, words he craved. And Sebastian breathed deeper each time Chris just touched him, just looked at him with that silent promise of loving him forever and ever, in this life and all the others.

Sebastian breathed so deep he felt like flying because Chris is a sweet overdose, Chris is everything he’s always forbid himself to dream of because he dared once, and it still haunts him.

Because Anthony still haunts him, his dreams and thoughts, like a deadly obsession.

Sebastian got shot but he came back because Chris isn’t a deadly obsession, he’s not an illusion, Chris is not a dream. Chris is nothing like Anthony. He proved it, many times.

So Sebastian bit his tongue and swallowed down the blood, pretended to be okay until he said it enough time he believed it. From the bottom of his heart, he believed it; just like he believed Chris that night; just like he believed Chris when he said those words he’s been dying to hear; just like he believed in the veracity of every of Chris’ touch.

He believed so hard. Too hard.

Chris pulled the trigger on that rooftop because Sebastian begged him to, at first it felt like an empty try and they breathed, relieved. Except just because you don’t hear the firing doesn’t mean there wasn’t a gunshot. There was one, Chris has thick skin, that’s all. Sebastian should have warned him because it takes time for you to understand as it gets to your bloodstream, travelling in your veins before finding the perfect place to settle.

It messed with Chris’ head after a while and then with his heart, but Sebastian was too blind to see.

Sebastian knew the pain but Chris has thick skin and he plays so well, he didn’t notice. Sebastian thought Chris was okay. He thought, wished and he wanted to believe but he was wrong. He should have seen it, should have helped Chris but Sebastian had begged him to pull the trigger. He was the reason Chris got shot.

And then Sebastian got shot too, again. But this time it had nothing to do with them. Just a third player who doesn’t play by the rules, who doesn’t even know the rules and it caused more damage than Chris has ever done. It hit the target right where it hurts the most, the pride and dignity. The heart. Beyond repair. There it was a shot, a real one, not poison, not a toxin, not a venom. It was a real shot and it hurt as soon as it reached its goal.

Sebastian’s phone buzzed on the nightstand all night and it woke him up at some point. The sound got so annoying he needed to see why did everyone needed to talk to him that morning. He got up, unable to sleep anymore; he was on his way to the kitchen when the words scratched his eyes. And then he fell on his knees like an autumn leaf off a tree.

He sat there for awhile, until Chris woke up and he was so sure Chris would walk away. Chris said, warned, repeated many times that he couldn’t, wouldn’t be able handle the media’s pressure and Sebastian was so sure, but Chris laid down his gun, tossed it away like he did with his phone.

One second Chris was holding the gun, the next one he was willing to take all the bullets. Chris turned from the danger to the protector and Sebastian should have known but he’d become blind. The tears steaming up his eyes and the loud beating in his chest and temples, he wasn’t well enough to see it.

That was the first moment Chris felt the bullet in his system.

Then it spread to his heart and Chris ignored it and said _I love you_ , and the beauty of the words only blinded Sebastian more. Thick skin and tough mind, Chris is too proud to give in. Chris only gets stronger when he’s pushed to his limits and Sebastian pushed him farther. He never intended to, of course, that’s not even exactly him who pushed him that far, Sebastian was just the butterfly effect.

A kiss on Sebastian’s lips was another page in the magazines. Another page in the magazine was more attention drawn to them. More attention meant more expectation. An appearance of Sebastian was another discussion on social media which meant even more attention than they’d already had. That picture Sebastian posted and the concert he shared with _Existential Chrisis_ were the beginning of it all, that was the tiny flutter of wings that caused the tsunami to reach the coast a bit later.

Too much attention, Sebastian is sure, is what led them to where they are today.

He should have known.

Chris has thick skin, a tough mind and a fragile heart protected in an airtight box, so tall and strong, but Chris _is_ vulnerable and Sebastian should have protected him better. That was his mistake. He should have known.

Sebastian woke up again in the middle of the night to see Chris lying in the kitchen and hear him wailing; he had just realised the hole in his chest meant he got shot. And Chris deals with wounds like a warrior, he cleans the cut with alcohol but it means it hurts more, he has to grit his teeth and hold everything inside to show he’s strong. Chris doesn’t need to be that strong, but he’s so used to it.

Sebastian tried to show him there were other ways to heal, ones that hurt less. They take more time, sure, but they don’t leave scars, or they do, but they’re not as visible, not as hurtful when you brush them. Chris dismissed him in the most agreeable way. He made Sebastian stop thinking, he made him clutch the sheets and let him promise to love him the way he does it the best. And Sebastian believed, from the bottom of his heart he believed in every word falling from his lips and every snap of his hips.

How could he have known? Chris is a magician, he pulls tricks out of every sleeve. He lies, plays and twists words so people around him can’t see how hurt he is inside. But Sebastian should have known. If someone could see behind misleading appearances, it should have been him.

But he didn’t, because Chris plays this game so well.

Chris looks callous, insensitive and cold; he looks like he never gave two damn about his life. He’s living his like a rebellious fish in the stream, but Chris has a golden heart guarded up high in a tour. Chris looks at himself like he’s some kind of monster, he believes the reflection he forces himself to return in a mirror. He’s so focused on the dark he doesn’t see the light. Chris rejects love because he assimilates it as pity; Sebastian never felt an ounce of pity toward him. Compassion, love, but never pity.

He’s got a heart made of thunder but a face as cold as stone. Chris is harsh and raw, never lets his emotions get the best of him but around Sebastian, he lets his guard down sometimes.

Chris let himself burn slowly. He set himself on fire and waited for the flames to consume him, leaving with just ashes at his feet but Chris is a phoenix.

Sebastian believes that.

He’s a golden heart and golden hearts don’t burn out, they don’t melt, they resist the flames. Chris is a fighter, a warrior with a golden heart and he can survive this, just like he’s always survived anything. Chris once said phoenix are in fairytales only, but if there’s one thing Sebastian is sure of, it’s that when you believe strong enough: anything can be true.

Back in Romania, when his mom used to tuck him to bed and narrate tales of monsters and kings, he would always interrupt with questions. Always so keen to know much more than what she had the time to invent, because her mom always created magic worlds with her words. In a second Sebastian would be leaning on his elbows at a window, high up in a tower with stars shining bright in the otherworldly darkness, or he’d be on a battlefield, dragons flying above his head, rocked to sleep by her angelic voice.

Sebastian once asked her for a story about astronauts, she came up with one and, as he was sitting on the moon, he asked his mom if she thought he’d be one when he grew up. She told him that as long as _he_ believed he could, he could become anything he wanted and Sebastian held on that all of his life, and look at where he is. Look how far he’s come since he first moved to the United States.

Sure, he took an airplane for the first time and he changed his mind on wanting to become an astronaut, but he never stopped believing he could be anything he wanted. You can’t convince him fairytales are fake, he’s living one. Literally. He’s twenty-one and on top of a fortune and an empire that he wouldn’t have even dare to dream of. He never dares to dream too big.

But Chris is a phoenix, he believes that. Chris is a phoenix as long as Sebastian believes he is.

When he woke up the next morning, Sebastian knew something was different. Chris wanted to be and do more than he could and that was going to kill him one day. The idea frightened him on spot, everything turned cold in the room, even held in Chris’ arms and tucked in the sheets, Sebastian froze. Chris is a furnace, a scorching heat, a raging fire but Sebastian was cold anyway.

He looked at his face, he saw Chris asleep but even in his dreams he seemed so tortured. Nightmare agitating him, so much on his mind. But even then, he was beautiful to look at.

Chris is the most handsome man he’s ever seen. It’s in little details, like his long eyelashes and how they can delicately brush his skin when he comes close to kiss him, the blue and green of his eyes that change with lighting and mood. The same eyes looking at him like he’s the most precious thing in the universe when he’s making love to him, and how he shuts them close when Sebastian decides he wants to play too.

His eyebrows and the way they can make him look so adorable when he’s proud of his stupid joke. His lips curving up in a grin when he notices Sebastian’s laughing at that stupid joke. That mouth and those soft and gentle lips that made Sebastian see heaven countless times. His freckles you can’t see unless you pay real attention, these two beauty spot in his neck and the others Sebastian could point at in the dark. That one on his cheek, partially hidden by his facial hair he loves beyond everything. That beard that scratches his skin in wonderful ways, that beefy chest and those strong arms in which Sebastian feels like home. They’re comforting and loving, he feels so small held by them, hiding his face in the crook of his neck.

There isn’t one thing about Chris that makes him look less than perfect.

But he’s so tormented by his demons, his smile rarely brightens sincerely. Sebastian can tell the difference now, it’s subtle but it’s not the smile you have to see if it’s shining, it’s his eyes. It’s the little sparks and stars inside them, and there’s no mistaking once you’ve seen them dazzling. It’s inimitable. It’s like the planet illuminates all at once, and his face relaxes and he just doesn’t care anymore and that’s beautiful.

He’s beautiful, and fascinating and smart and funny but he burns every bridge down, builds walls around him that Sebastian can’t climb, isolating himself with that dark shadow that refuses to leave him. She keeps Chris to herself, selfishly.

Sebastian loves him, him whole, with his demons and that shadow wrapping him in her arms and rocking him motherly, but just because he loves every part of him doesn’t mean he has to stand there and watch them destroy him slowly. What kind of boyfriend would he be?

There’s a mediatised blizzard Chris lost himself in and Sebastian desperately tries to guide him through it. They’ll find the way out, together. That’s how it works. That’s how it works when you love each other, and how much does he love Chris.

He’s never loved anyone like he loves Chris, it is tough though, to love him, but it’s worth every fight. Chris hurts him but never intends too, he has the best intentions at heart. More often than not he just wants to protect him but he doesn’t know how, and he ends up hurting him deeper. But Sebastian knows for each punch, Chris hits himself three times as hard.

He growls and barks, bites sometimes because he doesn’t know whispering holds a depth raised voice can’t grasp. Murmured words hits the hardest but it takes so much self control to whisper when you want to yell. As much as it takes to stay stoic when you’re crumbling down inside.

Chris can do that last one, he’s a master at it, staying impassive when all he wants to do is cry but for a singer he has surprisingly no power over his own voice. He breaks and yells, throw punches with his words; he’s scared inside.

On the opposite of what he thinks, Chris is not empty. He’s full. So full it needs to break free sometimes, because it’s too much accumulated for a single human being. He can’t live like that. That’s a strange concept, how such a heavy heart can seem so empty at times when really just so full it’s overflowing; so giving, so good.

His voice makes people dance and fall in love; his voice makes people happy and sing from the top of their lungs. His voice makes Sebastian do all of that and more. His fingers scribble delicate words, write moving melodies and touch his body ever so caringly. Chris is capable of so much tenderness and compassion but as soon as his fragility and vulnerability shows through, he retracts into his shell.

He’s scared of his own kindness, of what his love can do. He’s terrified and Sebastian isn’t sure why. He shouldn’t be, he’s so kind-hearted, so thoughtful and selfless but he convinced himself of the opposite for an odd reason. It’s crazy to think he can hate himself that deeply.

People warned Sebastian, Scarlett first. She said how much she loved Chris, started by praising him with high words but then she got more concerned. She told Sebastian to be careful, she told Sebastian Chris loves as deep as he hates, always so deep. And it’s true, when Sebastian sees how much Chris is capable of loving him and he compares it with how deep he loathes himself, it’s flagrant. Chris is a passionate person, but he’s an artist after all.

Jeremy warned Sebastian too, less cautious of his words. He told Sebastian he wasn’t thrilled by their relationship. He also said if everything between them worked out fine, he’d be the happiest. Hemsworth said Chris has been his best-friend for years, and he’s seen him going through tough times; saw him lower than the lowest he thought was possible –things that never got leaked out in the press, thanks to Jeremy. Things Scarlett doesn’t even know about.

But Tom was the first one to openly talk about his alcohol addiction, his words. He said it comes in periods, sometimes Chris gets better and sometimes he just sinks back. He warned Sebastian about that, he told him about a few times where Chris got so wasted it broke his heart to hear him speak his mind that easily. Broke his heart to hear how little he thinks of him, but mostly to see how violent he can get, physically, sure, but with his words more importantly. Pratt talked about that too, his dark side, his words again not Sebastian’s. All he wanted to do was to warn Sebastian about that for his safety. That scared him to hear Pratt use that word exactly. Safety.

But Chris would never hurt him that way. In any way. Not with his hands and not with his words. Chris’ mouth is full of loving words that never fail to soothe Sebastian when his heart feels like sinking in an endless, agitated sea. Because Sebastian always dives too deep into a relationship, too easily, always sinks along with his heavy heart, but this time that’s when he was violently pulled out of water that Sebastian felt like drowning.

Oh, reality has an aftertaste of cruelty and irony, but Chris is not Anthony.

Chris could never stab him in the back, he’s not a sharp knife surprising him in the night, he’s an announced threat. Sebastian knows the risks and he takes them willingly because Chris is worth every bruise and every cut. If one day Chris only just gets a glance of how rich he is inside, he’d understand why Sebastian doesn’t mind all of his marks. Because Chris is kind and he doesn’t deserve all the hate he put himself through. Sebastian wants to show him that, one way or another.

He works on that, little by little, but Sebastian has melt downs, of course. Sometimes he’d just sit there and remember the pictures without even a reason to, and he’d cry. Chris would hold him then, as soon as he sees it he’d kiss his forehead and shoulders, trying to appease the pain and this is just another reason why Sebastian fights for him.

Or why he fought. Chris is not Anthony, sure, but Chris is no less harmful.

Chris has melt downs too, and he changed. When he left for the rest of the tour, he changed. First days he called Sebastian every so often, but then it turned into once a day, just a few minutes and then it turned into battling to get him on the line for just a few seconds.

Sebastian wished he had come along because as the day passed, he could feel Chris slipping through again and there was nothing he could do about it. Hemsworth and Pratt tried to text him a couple times, tried to reassure him, promised to keep an eye on Chris but neither of them was his baby-sitter, and Chris succumbed to his old demons again.

One night, it was around four in the morning when Sebastian’s phone rang. He saw Chris’ phone number and Sebastian immediately picked up, instinctively fearing the worst: not hearing _his_ voice but someone else’s.

It was. It was Chris’ voice on the phone, crying and drunk. Sebastian hadn’t heard from him in two days when Chris finally called and truth be told, if Sebastian had known what this conversation was going to be about, he wouldn’t have picked up. 

Sebastian sat up in Chris’ bed –what he liked to call their bed now– trying to get Chris to speak. He missed Chris, a lot. Sebastian came to his apartment for the night instead of his own, wanting Chris’ smell to reassure him, to rock him to sleep. He missed Chris a lot and receiving a call should have reassured him, but it didn’t.

“I kissed her,” Chris had first said, and Sebastian’s heart pinched; remains of the bullet.

Chris then explained and Sebastian listened, biting his bottom lip to avoid making any sound. Chris explained how he got in the bathroom of a random bar, explained he went to a party or something but words were confused in his mouth and Sebastian was trying hard to keep it quiet. Chris drank, glass after glass, alcohol after alcohol, Sebastian could hear it in his wrecked voice, he could hear how much he’d drunk, how much he wanted to keep drinking. The bed began to feel uncomfortable and the smell carried through his lungs started to suffocate him.

“I called you because I–” Chris stopped to breathe, “I had my hand down her pants and I don’t want that, I don’t want her,” he broke down on the phone, starting to cry. “God I don’t want that, I don’t want her! _I want you. Baby I want you._ ”

The desperation in his voice shattered Sebastian’s heart a little more, same sensation as if someone was peeling off his heart raw. Tears streaming down his face, Sebastian managed to speak somehow, impressing himself. “You,” he swallowed, “you slept with her?” he risked asking, feeling nauseous at the words leaving an aftertaste in his mouth.

He didn’t want the answer. He didn’t want to hear it, but he had to ask. He had to know and hearing Chris’ attempts to breath made him shed another tear. The lump growing in his throat made it harder to pretend he was okay, made him stutter but he was sure Chris was too drunk to hear that.

“ _No!_ No, I didn’t,” Chris tried to breathe again, stumbling over air and words, “I want – _wanted_ to, I just –I –I don’t know, _fuck_! I’m so sorry, I fucked up, I’m sorry! Please Seb, baby, please I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he kept on begging, kept on sobbing, pleading, imploring forgiveness. “Please forgive me, _baby, please forgive me.”_

Sebastian remained silent, drowning in his thoughts for a bit while Chris kept on repeating the same words over and over again. Sebastian finally took a deep breath and asked, “Why’d you call me?” 

That caught Chris off-guard. Sebastian’s tears were rolling on his cheeks easily, but he tried to keep his voice clean. Not every wounds bleed red and his bled without any colour but just a taste, the salt on his lips. Chris shot him, again.

“‘Cause I love you,” Chris breathed out, calm suddenly. “I was kissing her and –and all I wanted was you. I’m a fucking asshole,” he said, sounding like he just chocked on his tears, “you deserve so much better. You should leave me, I’m not good for you.”

Sebastian was silent, and on the other side of the phone Chris was sniffling, swallowing back his drool. He could hear that. Sebastian could hear that and he took a deep breath again, but before he could speak a word Chris talked again.

“Jesus, _fuck_ ,” he cried harder on the phone, getting angrier. “Babe? Babe, you still here?”

“Mm?” Sebastian let out, holding back more tears. That didn’t sound like good news to him.

“I –I didn’t tell you everything,” Chris said, confessed and Sebastian’s heart sank. Somehow he knew this was coming but he was still hoping that was it. That there was nothing more to tell. Chris kept talking as Sebastian’s heart kept tripping on beats, “I can’t lie to you. I can’t. No more.”

Sebastian didn’t notice when he started holding his breath but he looked right in front of him as he asked without asking, “You cheated on me?”

And this time Chris went silent, fully silent, not even the sound of an attempt to breath, of an attempt to lie. Sebastian rolled his eyes up in pain, air leaving his lungs in a laugh of ache. His hand covered his mouth like it would help the punch in his chest to hurt less.

“I did,” Chris finally confessed without giving more detail.

Sebastian tried to breathe again but not even half the air got to his lungs. “When?”

“Two nights ago.”

Sebastian bit his lower lip. Two nights ago Sebastian had been wondering why Chris wouldn’t pick up his phone. Two nights ago he had fallen asleep from exhaustion, wearing one of Chris’ shirts.

“Who?” Sebastian asked, not caring the slightest about the answer but curiosity was eating him out. Please don’t say Jeremy, _please don’t say Jeremy,_ he prayed.

“Some guy,” Chris answered, not having cared either apparently. “Don’t know his name, didn’t ask.”

That got Sebastian mad, that he’d sleep with anyone, just like that, without asking for a name. Like it was nothing, no a big deal. Another part of him wanted to ask ‘was it good?’ because he was bitter and just so hurt, but it wouldn’t help anything. Chris was too messed up and drunk to deal with his bitterness and deception, and Sebastian was too tired to fight. But he was sad, Sebastian was sad and hurt and he knows it makes no sense, because that’s what alcohol does, it plays with you, but he desperately needed to hear it so instead Sebastian simply asked, “Do you love me?”

Chris took a deep breath before putting as much words as he could in his exhale, “ _I do_ , I do, baby I love you, I love you more than anything,” he started crying again. “I hate myself so fucking much, _god_ , I hate myself so much. You don’t deserve this. You should just leave me. Just leave me.”

Sebastian wiped a tear with the back of his hand. “That’s why you refused to pick up your phone?”

“I couldn’t lie to you, _not to you,_ ” Chris said, “but I had no idea how to tell you, I couldn’t just spit it out you know? I couldn’t disappoint you again. I did, didn’t I? You hate me now, right?”

“I don’t hate you,” Sebastian breathed, realising how cold he was feeling now. “I’m –I’m disappointed, and hurt, _and mad_ but I don’t hate you…”

“You should,” Chris said after a short pause. “I hate myself.”

“That’s why I don’t hate you, you hate yourself enough already.”

“I love you,” Chris reminded him again, but it felt as bland as the bed felt empty. “I just want to come home. I want to be with you.”

Sebastian paused at this turn, having no idea how to answer this; lying in Chris’ bed, with him on the phone, miles and miles away. “You promised me you were done drinking,” he finally chose to say, burying himself under the blankets and poisoning the air with Chris’ scent.  “You promised me, Chris.”

“I know,” he sighed, irritated with himself, “I know I did. I didn’t mean to lie, I didn’t mean for it to be a lie. I wanted _–I want_ to change, for you, I want you to be proud of me.”

Chris promised when they got back from Hemsworth’s house, he promised not to touch alcohol again. And Sebastian believed him. He trusts people easily, and he didn’t want Chris to become one of the rare exceptions, he owed him at least that, a last chance, so he gave it to him.

“I want you to promise me this is the last time you get wasted, Chris. I want you to promise me this is the last time you drink.”

“I can’t do this alone,” he answered, voice still wobbling.

“You won’t, I’ll be there for you,” Sebastian told him, “I’ll be there but _only_ if you promise me, and I do mean _promise_ , I don’t want another one of your lies. If you don’t want my help –if you think you can’t handle it say it now, I won’t be upset Chris, but if you say yes–”

“I promise you,” he said, hastily. “I promise you I’m done. _I love you_ –do you still love me?”

The question made Sebastian realise he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to and he did, at that moment he did want to. He tried to stop once and it didn’t work because even as hard as he did want to stop loving Chris; deep down it wasn’t hard enough. At that moment he wanted to stop too, because it hurt, because the first time Chris was there. Chris held him, Chris proved him he mattered, Chris made love to him and stayed in bed until Sebastian said it was okay for him to leave.

But there Sebastian was alone, and Chris wasn’t, he had company. Sebastian wanted to stop loving him, wanted to hate him because it would have made everything easier, because Chris looked for it, twice. He betrayed him twice in one week. His hands touched other people the way they touch him and his lips kissed strangers’ ones while Sebastian peeked at his phone restlessly for days.

But Sebastian gave up on the idea as soon as he thought about it; he’d never try hard enough because Chris is that sweet poison he loves beyond everything. Chris is his phoenix and he can rise from their ashes of broken and gutted hearts.

“Of course I love you,” Sebastian whispered, another silent tear rolling down his cheek.

“So what now?” Chris asked as he seemed to clear his throat.

Sebastian lied back in bed and stared at the ceiling. “Now you call a cab, and you sober up,” he said, “you go through these few more days so you can come back to me; and then we’ll figure it out together but in the meantime you stay far away from the temptation.”

That’s what happened. Chris came back to him. Chris apologized profusely for days. He bought more flowers than they could fit in his loft. More chocolates and ice-creams than both of them could eat in a year. He kissed Sebastian more than his lips could handle and his skin could hardly bear the beard burns. He loved him more than the bed could endure, shrieking in the end. Poor sheets wrinkled and ruined, stained from passion and ardent love. He made Sebastian smile and laugh and even forget. He loved Sebastian and loved him harder; each chance he had to prove it, Chris seized it.

Chris loved Sebastian, and Sebastian loved Chris and no gossips were going to change that fact.

But love isn’t a cure, love doesn’t heal every wound. Love is just a feeling that’s hard to get rid of and makes you take decision sanity would laugh at you for. It’s not an antidote; it’s another kind of virus, an infection. Love blinds you until your demons decide to open the curtains again because it was enough sleep, enough dreaming and heaven, and reality is so much sweeter, isn’t it? They know it ain’t, that’s why they’re laughing as you try to cover your eyes from the blindness of the day.

Sebastian kept remembering that night and that night slowly took the place of worst moment of his life, before the leaked of his personal pictures, before the day he broke up with Anthony. He wasn’t himself anymore, not entirely. He wasn’t as smiling and as soon as Chris would disappear, he’d take his smile away with him because Chris started to go out again while Sebastian would stood there, waiting. Fearing he might slip again. Even Jeremy had given up on watching over Chris; he’d go out too often. Sebastian was always worrying that when Chris would come back home, he’d lost him for good.

Until that night eventually happened.

Chris came back home one night, late. Really late. He slammed the door and woke Sebastian up. Not that he was sound asleep; he was trying to stay awake but slowly falling asleep. Chris didn’t give any news, Sebastian was waiting for him, worrying, and here Chris was. Wobbling, poorly dressed. He put his home keys on the counter and made more noise in the silent and dark room than he already did. And Sebastian decided that was enough, he got up, switched on the lights and caught Chris by surprise.

“You awake?” He asked, and his tone couldn’t lie any more than his clothes: he was drunk. So drunk he kept blinking, affected by the lights. “Did I wake you?” He asked again, a hand covering his poor aggressed eyes.

“Maybe when you slammed the door shut,” Sebastian said, irritated. “Maybe when you banged in the furniture, or when you threw your keys on the counter, you tell me.”

Chris made a step forward, “I’m sorry–”

“Are you, Chris?” He asked, meaner than he intended, but seeing Chris like this tortured his memory. He had an image to put behind the words he’d heard over the phone, he could see what Chris looked like every night during _that_ week where he wandered from bar to bar, where his hand wandered from briefs to panties. But not only, the memory of Chris hurting himself against the fridge haunted him too, but for some reason his brain overlooked that one.

“Are you really sorry?” Sebastian questioned again.

“I didn’t see the ti–”

“Where were you?” Sebastian cut him off, and he didn’t like the sound of his voice, he didn’t like to sound so much of a cliché. He didn’t like the fact he already had this conversation many times with Anthony before. He didn’t like to sound like a possessive, jealous boyfriend. He’s nice, he’s a nice, easy-going person not a possessive, jealous boyfriend.

Chris blocked, hesitating between another lie and the truth, but he was lucid enough to understand a lie would be more damaging than the truth, no matter what it was. “A bar, with some friends.”

Sebastian couldn’t hold back a painful laugh; he laid there for hours, again, while Chris was getting drunk, again. Only this time Chris _promised_ , and he couldn’t use the distance as an excuse, and that changed everything. There’s a saying that says “fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me,” and Sebastian did feel ashamed because he believed Chris, because Chris made the trick, again. He lied, again and it upset him so much.

But the idea of losing Chris oddly hurt more than the fact he broke his promise.

Sebastian strode to the kitchen to verify what he feared. He hadn’t before because he wanted to trust him, blind optimism and stupid hope. That’s going to get him killed someday. Sebastian understood before he even got the chance to open the door under the sink, Chris followed his steps, calling his name, imploring his name. Sebastian pulled out the bottle of whisky and after Chris tried to seize it once, he sighed, apologizing some more, making up more lies.

“You wanna drink?” Sebastian cut him in the middle of desperate explanation, an idea in mind. “Let’s drink!” he said, “you take a sip, I take one, how does that sound?”

“Babe…"

“How does that sound?” He repeated louder, lips and chin trembling, just so hurt.

“You don’t like drinking,” Chris answered with that sad look on his face, finally realising how much he’s hurt him, just a bit too late.

“And so?” Sebastian spitted. “You wanna get wasted, right? Then let’s get wasted together,” Sebastian faked a smile before he took a sip that burnt his mouth and tore his throat.

He coughed. Damn, he hates whisky.

Chris stared, and Sebastian felt the need to add with his throat on fire, “come on, it’s gonna be fun. See? I’m starting without you.”

“Seb,” Chris called, half firm, half hurt.

“Your turn,” Sebastian said as he handed him the bottle. Chris stared at him again, unable to understand Sebastian’s reaction, so Sebastian answered defiantly. “What? I’m a grown-up, just like you. I can make my own stupid decisions, just like you, and right now I wanna drink with you.”

Chris then stared at his hand, at the bottle.

“C’mon Chris, you’re okay drinking with your friends but not with me? Drink with me,” he said again, trying to coax him. Sebastian shook the bottle and Chris kept staring, arguing with himself. When Chris finally took the bottle out of his hand, Sebastian lost every hope, tears coming up, wanting to cry like never before.

Right at this instant he stopped believing Chris would ever stop drinking. Chris stopped being his phoenix and as Chris put the bottle to his lips, Sebastian noticed a sort of bruise on his jaw. He chose to not say a word about it until the morning, until Chris could explain, but his mind went wild.

Chris took a sip, a short one then looked at Sebastian, guilty and ashamed. Sebastian ripped the bottle out of his hand and took a longer one. Flaming everything on the way to his stomach, he coughed more. Chris looked concerned but he stood there, in the middle of the kitchen, and he accepted the bottle when Sebastian handed it back.

Chris hesitated, for a moment, looking at Sebastian and his teary eyes.

“I take one, you take one,” Sebastian said then, to remind him.

Chris passed the top of his tongue over his lips briefly. He clenched his jaw, tilted his head at the absurdity of the situation and closed his eyes to take a long gulp.

Alcohol started to kick in for Sebastian, not used to it, too much, too little time; empty stomach and light weight. He took another sip and Chris shook his head in incomprehension and sadness. Sebastian blinked, mouth open to breathe.

“Babe you okay?” Chris asked, worried.

“I’m fine,” Sebastian answered, not done with him yet. “Your turn.”

Chris sighed and drunk, obeying. Sebastian really started to feel alcohol in his bloodstream, but it still hurt less than Chris’ betrayals and lies and games.

“Baby you’re drunk,” Chris murmured, heartbroken.

“And? The point is to get wasted, right? You’re not done drinking, so I’m not done drinking.”

“No you’re done drinking,” Chris said as he took the bottle off his hands. Sebastian tried to keep a grip on it but Chris is stronger, always has been. It’s true that alcohol makes you lose perceptions of things, like he could match Chris’ massive arms and strength.

“Why are you doing this?” Chris finally asked after so long of a game.

“Why are _you_ doing this?” Sebastian retorted, losing it. “Do you think I want this? Wait for you every night to come back drunk and watch you destroy yourself? To fucking bury you in a year or two?!”

“Seb–”

“D’you fuck someone else tonight?” He asked coldly, because he didn’t want more lies and his brain kept reminding him of that call, and his eyes wouldn’t leave that bruise alone.

“ _What?_ No I didn’t!” He nearly shouted, then after a deep breath, Chris asked, “Why would you think that?”

“You cheated on me, Chris. _You did_ ,” Sebastian answer, starting to lose his temper, so deeply hurt and upset; the ghost of those feelings starting to freeze him inside. “You fucked someone else while you _fucking_ knew I was there, waiting for you, _in your fucking bed, in your fucking house!_ So why wouldn’t you again?” He spat in his face, alcohol turning his anger into wrath. Sebastian is a calm, resonated person, this isn’t him but this was too much. “Why did you do that for anyway? Am I not good enough for you anymore? Or my ass isn’t tight enough that you need to get back fucking girls now too? _Tell m–_ ”

“Don’t,” Chris growled.

“Don’t what?” He answered, defiantly. “Tell me why the fuck you cheated on me, Chris! I was there for you, I called you and you _chose_ to ignore me and I want to know _why,_ ” Sebastian barked back, tears blurring his sight.

Chris always pretends nobody’s there for him but he _chooses_ to ignore when people are, he turns a deaf ear when people want to help and this isn’t going to do him any good. Sebastian crying and yelling either, but this time he was the one whose heart was too full, and he needed to evacuate.  “And what the hell is that bruise on your face?” He finally asked. “Tell me the truth, you owe me at least the truth.”

“You want the truth? You want the _fucking_ truth? It was just _one_ drink _one_ night, and I thought I could handle it,” Chris said, trying to remain calm, “but I was wrong, _I was wrong!_ I made a mistake –I made _mistakes_ and I thought _– I thought_ if you knew you’d leave me, and I lost my mind _okay_?” He was talking as loud as Sebastian now.

“I couldn’t stand the idea of losing you so I just got drunk,” he laughed painfully, “I got drunk because I was scared you’d hate me if you knew I’d been drinking, and then I woke up next to that guy. Didn’t even know his name and you called me. You kept calling me, and the guys knew about it and they hated me for what I did. I hated myself too, you know? There’s not one single second where I don’t hate myself for what I’ve done to you. _I fucking hate myself, Seb!_ I ignored your calls because I didn’t want to lie to you, but how the fuck was I supposed to tell you I fucked someone else?! Tell me how was I supposed to tell you that without breaking your heart?!”

Chris was angry, yelling, shouting, but Sebastian knew it wasn’t against him. Chris was angry at himself, at what he’s done, who he was. He was angry and even though Sebastian knew he’d never be violent, Chris looked scary, those muscles and veins appearing on the skin of his neck... “I got drunk again because it was easier to just forget, and then I met that girl and it felt so wrong, I was disgusting myself but I wanted to hear your voice baby, _okay_?” Chris was in tears, hopping between yelling and voice wrecking at his own memories of what happened.

Sebastian took a deep breath before he could bring himself to say, “Don’t call me that.”

Chris’ face fell and he tilted his head slightly; Sebastian saw how tight he just squeezed his heart. Chris stood there, not knowing what to say. Sebastian saw him mouthing that pet name he just forbid him to use.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” Chris whispered eventually, wet eyes closed. “We’re gonna get through this, right?” he asked, terrified to meet Sebastian’s gaze again. Sebastian stayed still, eyes fleeing Chris’ when they finally opened. “Right?”

Sebastian started remembering everything then. What all the media had been saying about them for months; every headline, every article, betting, gambling on their relationship, how long it’ll last, hidden secrets, defamations, assumptions; pictures, words like knives. Alcohol didn’t help but to grow his hot bubble cosier. He thought he was smart enough to know the world he lived in. He guessed he was never that smart, Chris had years of practise behind him. But what if–

What if _they_ were right all along? The media, the press, their friends.

And what if they were wrong? Both of them. What if they never stood a chance. Sebastian tried to convince himself it was all in his mind, he tried and for a while, but Chris broke his promise. Chris went to someone else; what if they weren’t meant to be? What if they knew better, because they saw enough couples in this industry to know they weren’t any different, that they wouldn’t last; they knew from the beginning, but Sebastian refused to listen.

Sebastian thought Chris was his phoenix. He was just all wrong. Chris’ apartment no longer felt like this quiet, happy place. Sebastian looked around and it felt like a prison. All he saw were ruins of an old memory; even the smell he once used to relish became insipid.

“Seb?” Chris called, on the verge of shedding more tears and it broke Sebastian’s heart to see his reaction when he looked up, ending Chris’ wait.

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian chocked on his own tears. “I love you Chris, I do, I always will but that’s not working, not anymore.” He took a deep breath, drowning on Chris’ watering eyes before he started walking back to the bed to grab his stuff. Whatever would come to his hand. “I’m sorry,” he repeated because he was, sorry. Sorry to give up on him, sorry it had become too much. Sorry to put himself first, for once.

“Seb?” Chris asked urgently, panic in his voice as he followed him completely lost; putting the bottle back on the counter in a loud thud.

“Seb please,” he called again and his voice wrecking was Sebastian’s breaking point, tears dripping down his cheeks, so much he couldn’t see what he was picking up, if it belonged to him or Chris, his head hot and hurting.

“Please talk to me,” Chris said but there was nothing more to talk about, so Sebastian didn’t answer. Couldn’t bring himself to formulate any words. Not even a sound.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” he begged. “I can go to rehab, I can stop, _baby I can stop_. I promise you I can stop. Don’t leave me, _I can stop_.”

Sebastian kept ignoring, crying silently. “I can’t lose you,” Chris swallowed, his voice like a ghost behind him. “Oh god, I can’t lose you.”

Sebastian took his phone last, and Chris tried to stop him from leaving, stepping in front of him; solid on his feet but not threatening. “Please, please, _please,_ ” he whispered with his eyes closed and his voice broken. He wasn’t touching Sebastian, just begging with words and hopes. “ _Please don’t leave me._ ”

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian said from the tip of his salty lips, his hand on Chris’ chest for the last time. He bypassed him, his hand touching for as long as it could before he opened the front door and raced in the stairs because he couldn’t wait for the elevator.

In the hall he called his best-friend who came to pick him up without objecting to leave his bed at four in the morning. He waited, sniffing in the sleeve of what he was now realising was one of Chris’ t-shirt, and the guard was kind enough to offer him a tissue but not say a word about his heartache.

Sebastian squatted on Chace’s couch that night, too drunk to be left alone and he cried all of the following day, curled into a tiny ball. Harsh headache but the worse was the heady smell of Chris emanating from his shirt. Although he refused to change himself.

Chace didn’t kick him out, of course, offered as much help, comfort and kind attention as he could but all Sebastian wanted was for Chris to knock at the door and comfort him, say he’ll change, promise he will even though it’d be a lie. And maybe for a minute Chris would believe, would want to change. Maybe he would believe it so hard the lie would numb Sebastian’s lips. Maybe Chris would make the trick, once again, bring back this illusion of happiness. But it was Sebastian’s decision to let go of Chris, he did try to hold Sebastian back, but Chris respected his decision to leave and now Sebastian had to live with it.

But boy, how much did it hurt.

Only not as much as the following day, Sebastian had fallen asleep, exhausted, and he woke up because of his phone; friends calling, unread texts buzzing and ringing, worse, Chris kissing his cheek as screensaver. That strange feeling of déjà-vu already squeezed his heart and made him nauseous. There were no more pictures to leak, but Sebastian found himself fearing there were.

Everyone was asking Sebastian what the hell was happening and Sebastian couldn’t quite figure out what they were talking about because no one knew unless… Unless Chris told anyone, but that didn’t look like him. He wouldn’t do that, ever, Chris was probably as much as mess as Sebastian was, probably comatose on his kitchen floor, bottle in hand. The vision made Sebastian sick but he looked it up, whatever his friends were talking about. A short investigation on what was going on that ended up one of those trashy website a friend kindly linked him.

Some pictures of Chris at a party with some random girl.

For a few seconds Sebastian thought he was going to die, unable to breathe. Could those pictures be from… _that night?_ _Was that the girl?_ Or was it more recent? Sebastian still had no idea know what caused Chris’ bruise. With the apparent feeling of a heart attack, Sebastian scrolled down all the pictures of Chris making out with that girl to read the small text, and the date.

They were from the night before. Sebastian stayed numbed. Then he swore; it escaped him. Chace rushed up to him and his expression made Sebastian believe he was right to be mad at this. Tears started to form in his eyes, and lips to quiver. Sebastian swallowed and called Chris right away.

He knew he had no right to ask any explanation, Sebastian was the one who broke up after all, but he wanted them anyway. He needed to just hear it wasn’t all a sham, from the beginning. Their whole relationship, he just needed to hear Chris didn’t play with him from the first night.

It rang, and rang, but Chris didn’t pick up. Sebastian needed those answers, craving those explanations and beautiful lies and mostly just the sound of Chris’ voice. He missed the sound of Chris’ voice. He called a second time.

And a third, a fourth. At the fifth attempt, Chris answered.

“Do you hate me?” a small voice asked. Oh, he had been drinking.

“It didn’t take you long to replace me,” Sebastian said, mad, beyond mad, furious and heartbroken but he managed to let it out with a straight voice. He wanted, no, needed to know if Chris ever loved him at all but just that one single word made him sick. Just not as sick has it made him to hear Chris’ little voice, he had been crying too.

“Is that her? Or some other random girl you fucked too?” Sebastian asked, trying to not sound so wrecked but he knew he could try as hard as he wanted, Chris would hear the quavers in his voice just like he could hear his self-loathing.

Chris sighed, and then he said with a defeated voice, “I never meant to hurt you.”

“You did a really good job then,” Sebastian whispered, bitter and hurt.

“I’m sorry,” his small voice said again before the silence took over the conversation.

Sebastian shook his head, meeting Chace’s eyes as his own started to water once again. He hung up. Chace nodded. Hugged him, but no hug would ever be enough to comfort him. Not even Chris’ would have worked.

A few hours later, Chris sent a text.

**_You have every right to hate me. I’m sorry. Please, don’t lose your smile because of me._ **

Sebastian left it unanswered because he’d need a speech to explain what Chris would never be able to understand.

For couple weeks, Sebastian’s hatred made his heartache easier to bear. Hating Chris seemed easy at first, he had all the rights to, Chris agreed. Chris said it. Chris had said it for a while. It was easy to cringe at his name and wince at a memory suddenly creeping back; it was easy to just hate him but then Sebastian started to miss little things and other kinds of habits.

He’d missed waking up in Chris’ arms, missed his bed; he’d missed the sound of his voice and hear Chris humming all day long without noticing. And he’d missed Chris’ lips kissing the back of his neck with his arms capturing his waist like Sebastian was the only real thing he’s ever touched.

It was worse when Sebastian was alone, nobody to keep his mind busy; no Chace, no Scarlett. She tried to comfort him too, but Scarlett did warn him about Chris. She was right. Everyone was, but Sebastian wanted to give it a chance. Give Chris a chance. Chris deserved a chance, and a second one. Sebastian didn’t regret any of what they had, and he still loved him despite all which made everything harder to live with. Sebastian spent so much time at Chris’ place his own apartment didn’t feel like home anymore.

He’d lie in this large and empty bed, cold and uncomfortable. No cuddly furnace to warm him up. Sebastian wasn’t feeling home anywhere. His guitar became his best-friend but his voice his worst enemy.

He had a heart full of love songs but nobody to sing along.

All he could sing was about Chris, and all of the words were too painful to let out, but he did write, and sing, compose, his heart bleeding words. He scribbled down so many songs and melodies but there’s never anything beautiful about singing your heartache, as much as there’s no poetry in watching your loved-ones destroying themselves slowly, like Sebastian watched Chris succumbing softly to misery, to his deafening and cruel demons.

They won Chris after all, because Sebastian gave up. Stopped believing.

Sebastian should have helped, more, better. Chris needed help and Sebastian left when he needed him the most. He began to realise that. He never helped Chris. He watched. He waited. Wanting, demanding and expecting, but he never helped. He waited impatiently and watched with pain but he never once helped. Chris had been fighting alone the whole time, with the weigh of his own demons on his back and Sebastian’s expectations on top of the mound. He made it harder for Chris to heal, he put pressure on him. Chris believed himself so incredibly, irreparably broken that he consciously or unconsciously managed to push Sebastian away.

Jeremy and Scarlett came to Sebastian’s place every few days, separately or together, to talk and chat and keep Sebastian’s mind busy with anything but the break-up, which was honestly impossible to do. They were there, they were talking but Chris was always on Sebastian’s mind, somewhere, not so deep. He was in every quaver of his voice in every word leaving his lips. Chris was more present than he had been during the last weeks, but Scarlett refused to talk about him, apparently to help Sebastian heal from the break-up.

She said she wanted Sebastian to smile again, and Sebastian knew those were Chris’ words and concerns.

Sebastian didn’t want to heal, didn’t want to forget. Sebastian wanted to call Chris and call himself an idiot. Sebastian wanted to knock at Chris’ door hoping he’ll open it and take him in his arms. Sebastian didn’t want to hear Scarlett criticize Chris’ behaviour and put him on a pedestal.

Jeremy revealed himself to be kinder than Scarlett. He loved every one of Sebastian’s songs, smiled charmingly at him and offered to talk about Chris. They talked about Chris. Jeremy looked at Sebastian with sadness and compassion and that made Sebastian break down again. He was being too kind and Sebastian didn’t deserve it.

Jeremy and Scarlett tried to comfort him, avoiding all kind of _we-told-you-so_ that they would be right to use, but there was no point in them.

Eventually Sebastian started to make peace with everything that happened. On the contrary of what he first thought, hating Chris made things harder, not easier. At best it just gave him something to hold onto whenever he thought breaking up was the stupidest idea he’s ever had, but that was all.

But it _was_ the stupidest decision of his life. He probably dug Chris’ tomb a little deeper. Chris stayed by him when Sebastian needed him, but he left when the situation reversed itself, when Chris needed a hand. And maybe that’s the fear of reliving everything again, maybe Anthony fucked him up more than he’s willing to believe, but Sebastian stopped recognising himself the night he left Chris.

Sebastian realised the difference between them better than he’s ever had. Anthony said _I-love-you_ before each time he said _I-need-you-to_ and Chris said _I-love-you_ without any other thought in mind but the fear he would be too much to handle. Chris made up lies because he was afraid the truth would hurt more, Anthony made up lies because the truth wasn’t interesting enough.

A little over a month after they broke up, Scarlett invited Sebastian to one of her many parties. Sebastian didn’t need to ask, Scarlett warned him Chris would probably be there before he’s said he’d go. He was her best-friend after all, custody of friends only applies when you get divorced, not when you break up after just a few months.

She did warn him Anthony would be there too, and that preoccupied Sebastian much more. 

 

 

* * * *

 

 

Sebastian’s glancing around, scanning the room absently and when he spots him, his heart squeezes. He hasn’t seen him in a while. Jeremy is standing next to Sebastian, talking, but Sebastian’s no longer listening. The last time he saw him… It didn’t exactly end well.

Sebastian can see Scarlett turning around in the corner of his eye, trying to see what’s suddenly caught his attention; she might have guessed who already. He wants to say a word but he can’t open his mouth, shamefully. Scarlett turns right back to face him, tilting her head just slightly.

And at that exact moment Sebastian regrets ever lying to Scarlett.

Anthony’s leaning against the bar, spotlights highlighting his charm, his white smile and the dark tone of his skin. Scarlett mentions Anthony’s name before apologizing and the familiarity of it resonates in Sebastian, and like smoke in the lungs of a smoker, it burns within him; light fire of a heartbreak not fully healed. It’s harsh in his throat when Sebastian swallows down the sorrow and misery he still feels vibrantly inside. Anthony has made a mess out of him, he can’t deny that.

Jeremy’s eyes are on Sebastian, questioning silently. Sebastian smiles and says everything is okay, Jeremy doesn’t believe a word from it but just like always he doesn’t enquire further; Sebastian is thankful for that.

Scarlett invites them to sit on the couch nearby, tired of standing up on high heels. She’s speaking about a charity, something about ill kids and ordinarily Sebastian would listen attentively, but he’s following her steps and words absent-mindedly instead, eyes unable to leave that treacherous smile Anthony is sporting.

Officially it ended well between them, but Anthony’s a dream merchant, a lie maker. It’s pathological, he’s machine, always producing more illusions, always finding new ways to make you believe bigger lies and you swallow each and every one of them no matter how big. He’s got great tricks; he plays around with both truth and reality. Anthony can look at you with an astounding, doting smile and say whatever he wants, you’ll believe him. He gets inside you viciously until every one of your brain cells is poisoned by the same air he breathes, and then he only smiles brighter while you just stand there, under a spell.

Anthony’s a lovely person when you’re not in his claws though, and that’s why Sebastian’s not said a word to Scarlett. They’re friends. Sebastian can’t fight him, he can’t make sense, even if he’s telling the truth, when Anthony can twist that same truth around and make it look like an unbelievable lie without even trying. He can’t fight him, and he doesn’t want to lose Scarlett either.

Anthony’s always been a bit possessive and jealous with him, and now that Sebastian is single again… Who knows what’s going through Anthony’s mind? Sebastian also knows Chris is supposed to come tonight and he has no idea what’s going through Chris’ mind either. Maybe they’ll stay away from each other but if… Sebastian stops himself there. He doesn’t want to consider the idea tonight might end in the usual chaos Anthony always seems to bring along with him.

Anthony glances at Sebastian, his grin growing disgustingly wider and for some reason Sebastian smiles back; reflex or good manners, he doesn’t know but he feels like a complete idiot. That’s just how he is, he forgives but never forgets. He fakes smiles and scolds himself on not wanting to be polite. They haven’t seen each other in a little less than a year but Anthony’s smile seems different, more sincere. Maybe the leak of their pictures changed him.

Sebastian wants to believe that.

Sebastian’s kind, soft and sweet, he’s a bit naïve and sometimes a real fool but that’s who he is, vulnerable. And he loves, loves so much, so deep, everything and everyone; too much, too deep, too many things and too many people. He cuts himself often because he falls for broken boys with sharp edges. He’s got a type, what can he say? He gives second chances, and third ones, twentieth ones when they ask for it because he believes in the sincerity of their hearts. He trusts people easily and often regrets it, but he grows wiser from each betrayal.

Maybe he’s an idiot for thinking so, but he wants to believe people can change. He wants to believe even people like Anthony can change. He will believe it until Anthony proves him wrong, because otherwise it’d mean Anthony changed him, broke him and Sebastian is not ready to accept that idea.

As Sebastian looks away from Anthony finally, Chris steps into his field of vision, standing by the door. He looks stunning and absolutely handsome, so much it knocks him out when Sebastian first lays his eyes on him. That white Henley sculpting his chest of God, his long hair slipped back and his trimmed beard. He looks astonishing. He looks… He looks great.

Scarlett peeks in Chris’ direction before looking back at Sebastian. She apologises, telling Sebastian she’ll be back in a minute, kissing his cheek. Jeremy’s also looking at Sebastian and, although he hasn’t spoken a word yet, Sebastian tells him he should go and greet Chris too. No custody of friends, just a fair share. Chris is as entitled to spend the night with them as he is.

Sebastian, alone on his couch, finds himself wishing Chace would have been able to come too. He wouldn’t be feeling so alone in this room full of people. Instead Chace is probably lying on a beach, sunbathing. Sebastian envies him, he’d trade Scarlett’s living-rom for a beach right now, or for a desert island.

Sebastian overhears Chris laughing and his lungs fill without air. He doesn’t know whether Chris saw him yet or not, but he won’t just sit there and wait. With Chris’ laugh chiming in his ears, Sebastian gets up and walks towards the bar to get something to drink. Anything that might fill his empty and torn stomach, anything. No, not exactly anything but anything that might make this night bearable.

He asks for a glass of champagne and starts sipping it as soon as his fingers grasp the drink. He’s leaning on the bar, feeling miserable when he sees Anthony walking up at him. He panics a little inside, many memories coming to him as Anthony is stepping closer and closer. For another second Sebastian is willing to believe the recent events might have helped Anthony to change, but at the sound of his voice he’s not so sure anymore.

“Sebastian,” Anthony says, chants with a smile. He shouldn’t be smiling his name. He shouldn’t be singing it so shallowly. He doesn’t have the right to feel happy about it swinging on his lips like it did before. His smile is like a knife reopening the wound in Sebastian’s chest.

Sebastian tenses, wanting to run and hide. “Anthony,” he answers politely instead, faking a smile.

“Haven’t heard from you in a while,” Anthony says, leaning on the counter now too. He’s just inches away, his elbow nearly touching Sebastian’s. He’s too close.

He’s too close. Anthony’s too close. Sebastian’s heart starts racing in his chest. “Yeah, I’ve been busy–”

“I saw that,” Anthony cuts him. He’s wearing that awful smile that still feels oddly friendly despite what happened between them. “Concerts, new songs,” he tilts his head slightly, “the pictures...”

Sebastian takes a deep breath. Let’s not go there… “I know you erased them–”

“I had no point in leaking them,” Anthony says, cutting him again. “Y’know it was as harmful to me as it was to you.”

The truth is, among in the ten pictures that ended up online, Anthony was in two of them. Sebastian? In all ten of them –which is normal, as Anthony was the one taking the pictures. So no, it wasn’t as harmful to Anthony as it was to Sebastian. His name was hardly even mentioned, but that escapes Sebastian for some reason. Anthony’s dashing smile maybe, or the sound of his soothing and charming voice.

He’s poisoning the air again.

“I know that,” Sebastian replies kindly, “I was there when you deleted them. I know you have nothing to do with what happened.”

“Good,” Anthony smiles and sighs, sort of relieved. “I didn’t want you to think I had something to do with it, although I did get you to do them and for that I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Sebastian can’t help himself, he can’t let Anthony feel guilty. “I agreed to it, you never forced me into anything.”

"But if I hadn't brought it up," Anthony starts, playing with his drink, "the idea, I mean. It was mine. If I hadn't brought it up, you wouldn't have to deal with any of that."

“It’s done now, no need to beat ourselves over it.”

“I have to say,” Anthony’s grinning now, “I’m glad you’re not mad at me.”

“It’s not your fault,” Sebastian repeats, a weak and broken smile on his lips.

“I heard,” Anthony nods in the direction of the door, “about you and Evans. I’m sorry he wasn’t smart enough to not make the same mistake I did.”

There’s something heavy in Sebastian’s mouth suddenly, whatever word he wants to say is weighing a ton, holding his tongue steady. He can’t pronounce a word, a sound, feeling a bit nauseous at the memory of Chris, and to hear his name in Anthony’s mouth turns his stomach upside-down.  

“Thanks,” is the only word able to pass through his teeth and survive the acid in his throat.

Anthony offers a compassionate smile in response, looking at him kindly. When Sebastian’s eyes drop on his smile, it hits him. That’s Anthony in all his splendour. That’s how he does it, that’s him manipulating words to get closer again. Not this time.

Sebastian grabs the drink in front of him. “I’m sorry, I have to find Scarlett, you know how she is,” he jokes his way out of the vulture’s claws, “but it was nice seeing you again.”

“Sure,” Anthony answers, but his eyes send the message that this is not it, that the night is not over. Sebastian hastens himself to find wherever Scarlett’s hiding. “Have a good night,” Anthony adds.

Of course she’s still with Chris and Sebastian, feeling Anthony’s eyes on him, feels obligated to turn his lie into a truth. Even though Chris is standing there, still so breathtakingly handsome, Sebastian walks up to her, his heart squeezing again to be so close to Chris. He can smell his cologne. He can see Chris looking in his direction, looking back at him. Sebastian smiles, like an idiot, he smiles and Chris stops talking. His eyes flee Sebastian’s before he hits Scarlett’s arm gently, warning that Sebastian is coming their way. Sebastian can read Chris’ apologies on his lips as he nods and walks away before he can reach them.

“Hey,” Scarlett says.

“Why did he leave?” Sebastian asks instantly. Why did Chris leave? Jeremy looks at him but doesn’t want to answer; Sebastian knows exactly why Chris left, he was just hoping there’d be another answer, one that’d hurt less but there isn’t. Chris left because Sebastian walked his way. Chris is avoiding him. Or he thinks Sebastian wants to avoid him and he’s sparing them awkward moments. It doesn’t matter because either way Sebastian came in and Chris took off.

A soft punch in his wounded chest.

Sebastian takes a sip of his drink. Brows uprising, Scarlett watches him, watches the glass on his lips, silently judging. How hell, Sebastian can have one drink, just one, he’s a responsible adult after all. Why does everybody seem to forget he can look after himself?

Scarlett’s always been overprotective of him. She promised Sebastian’s mother she’d look after him and make sure he keeps both feet on the ground. She promised to not let this business make Sebastian’s head spin and she did a good job so far, but with everything that’s happened recently… She’s on the lookout, making sure Sebastian is okay. There’s nothing wrong with that, Sebastian _is_ thankful but it’s a bit suffocating at times. He knows she only means well, but the weight of her judgmental looks can get heavy on his tiny and frail shoulders. However, this time Scarlett watches without saying a word. She lets Sebastian enjoy the fizzy bubbles in his mouth.

Damn, he loves Champagne.

Sebastian spends the next hour following Scarlett and Jeremy around, like a lost puppy, really, with his drink in one hand. He barely knows half of the crowd in this living-room, most of them are acquaintances and people he met here and there, nobody he’s interested in. Usually he’d gladly discuss with anyone but he’s in not in the mood for chats tonight. He’s just drinking his glass.

Scarlett always insists for him to come whenever she throws a party, whether it’s business, pleasure or both. Tonight it’s a bit of both and she didn’t need to insist, Sebastian needed distractions. And what a better distraction than the only thing he shouldn’t be thinking about?

Sebastian’s been glancing at Chris all night, whenever he gets the opportunity to have him in sight, he peeks at him, but Chris never looks back in his direction, and it saddens him.

Scarlett notices it and it annoys her. She doesn’t say so, but Sebastian knows her well. He knows she’s still a bit upset with Chris but she shouldn’t be. Whatever happened, it happened between the two of them; it shouldn’t affect any other relationship than theirs.

Scarlett is Chris’ best-friend so she heard both sides of the story and Sebastian had kept her updated throughout the whole relationship, or almost. He did kept his mouth shut during the first couple of months. Maybe if he had talked to her earlier Chris and him wouldn’t be in this situation, maybe everything would have been clear from the start and they’d still be together today. Maybe Sebastian wouldn’t have to furtively peek at Chris every few minutes, hopping to catch him looking back.

They had a really long talk after they first broke up and it proved to be really enlightening. Scarlett listened to Sebastian rambling for hours first, hugging him whenever he cried, offering ice-cream too. Sebastian doesn’t know if Chris got the habit from her, or if Scarlett got the habit from him, but they’re always offering ice-creams to him and it’s becoming a bit of a problem.

Scarlett let Sebastian the time to say everything he needed, mostly just let him whine over how ridiculous he looked like this, crying on her couch over some guy he didn’t even know as much as he’d wish. Then Scarlett explained details about Chris that clarified a lot about his personality and, truthfully, grew Sebastian’s feelings for him.

She’s the one who convinced Sebastian to release the song he later sang at the Grammys, and she’s the one who advised Sebastian to confess his feelings to Chris which led to him opening his heart on Chris’ rooftop, and he doesn’t regret it. They have amazing memories together.

Scarlett was also the first person Sebastian reached for when Chris called from the bar’s bathroom. He called her after Chris hung up, she offered to come over but Sebastian declined the offer. She talked to him on the phone for awhile and Sebastian thanked her through his tears. She made sense that night; she did start to seriously warn Sebastian that Chris was going downhill, that he should be careful of his own heart before worrying about Chris.

Sebastian didn’t listen because he knew better.

Then, when Sebastian left Chris, he couldn’t bring himself to call Scarlett right away to tell her she was right. Even though he knew she’d never say _I-told-you-so_ exactly, it’d be weighing on every word, it’d be in that expression she wears so well, and Sebastian couldn’t face that yet. He called her the next day, with Chace around for moral support.

She was pissed, but she was in Europe and truthfully? It relieved Sebastian to know he wouldn’t have to face her soon. But then the pictures of Chris with _that girl_ leaked online and made him regret she wasn’t around. She would have found the words Chace wasn’t able to say. Instead Sebastian had to wait two more days, biting and eating his nails until it hurt.

Scarlett arrived with Jeremy in the afternoon, angry at Chris. They were already arguing over Chris and Sebastian’s relationship and Chris’ behaviour before they even passed the doorstep. When she stopped her rant to breathe and say hello, Jeremy explained Sebastian that she had just hung up with Chris.

If Sebastian had been able to speak his mind properly, he would have taken Chris’ defence –which would have only increased Scarlett’s annoyance but as he couldn’t speak a word without sobbing, Sebastian kept his mouth shut.

She refused to tell Sebastian what they talked about, with Chris, but they did talk, and yelled and argued. That was also most certainly the first thing Scarlett did when she heard the news, to call Chris and yell at him. Sebastian could only image her shouting at Chris and then comforting him on the phone.

Jeremy was nicer; he comforted Sebastian while Scarlett repeated the same things over and over again. She looked like she needed to get it off her chest, so Jeremy let her and told Sebastian to not listen to anything she was saying.

And weeks later, Scarlett is still a little angry at Chris but from what Sebastian understood tonight, he’s the only tricky subject between them. They seem to go along just fine besides that.

Realising he’s a problem and wanting to let Scarlett the possibility to enjoy some time with Chris, Sebastian chooses to excuse himself. Scarlett frowns but Sebastian smiles and leaves to the guestroom, needing isolation for a short moment, needing to digest his sudden epiphany.

The room is calm and quiet, and he’s alone.

Sebastian sits on the edge of the bed before lying on it, a bit woozy. He looks around the darkened room he knows perfectly well now before staring at the ceiling. That’s when someone knocks at the door.

“Come in,” Sebastian answers, expecting Scarlett, hoping for Chris.

“Oh sorry,” a voice says. Sebastian’s heart skips a beat, he’d recognize that voice among thousands. “Am I inter–” Anthony stops to scan the empty room, probably expecting to find someone else that’s not here. “What are you doing here alone?”

“‘Needed silence,” Sebastian answers, sitting up. “You’re looking for something?”

“Silence,” Anthony laughs, softly.

Sebastian gestures sadly at the empty room and Anthony laughs a little longer. “Guess you’d mind some company?”

“If the company’s silent, no, I don’t,” he answers. He’s too lost in his thoughts to even mind Anthony’s presence, and if Anthony’s silent then he’s no danger. Closed mouths don’t speak promises and lies.

Anthony walks towards the bed and sits a little farther away. Sebastian doesn’t glance at him and lies back again. As Anthony stays sitting, Sebastian finds himself looking at his back. It feels weird, to be lying on a bed, in a silent and dark room with Anthony around, this close. It reminds him of memories he doesn’t know how to react to. He feels nostalgic of a repellent past.

“Tipsy?”

 _Why do you care?_ “I’m fine.”

“Avoiding someone?” Anthony asks, another whisper breaking the promised silence.

 _You_ , Sebastian wants to say. And Scarlett, and Chris. Jeremy too. The world. Himself. “Just needed some space,” he answers, voice barely above a whisper.

Anthony lies next to him. “D’you know he’d be here?”

“I did.”

“D’you know I’d be here?”

“I did.”

“And you don’t mind?”

Sebastian takes a deep breath, chest raising up and exhaling loud. Sure, he does mind. He minds that Anthony is here, he minds that Anthony is laying this close, that he’s speaking out loud. He minds that Chris is avoiding him, he minds that Chris is refusing any eye contact, refusing his presence.

“It’s Scarlett’s party, she invites whoever she wants and you know she likes you.”

Anthony looks at him, he can feel his eyes on him but Sebastian refuses to look back, keeping on staring at the darkened ceiling instead. “She likes you the most you know that, I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want me.”

“You’re giving me much more power than I hold, I’m afraid,” Sebastian breathes out sarcastically but Anthony doesn’t hear the sarcasm, or he chooses not to.

“You know,” he starts instead, “he’s a fool for letting you go,” Anthony says and Sebastian grits his teeth; Anthony has no idea what he’s talking about. Chris let him go because he knew it was the right thing to do. That doesn’t make him a fool, that makes him selfless, but again that’s a word Anthony can’t understand.

Sebastian refuses to answer, hoping Anthony will eventually commit to his promise of total and complete silence. If anyone’s a fool, it’s Sebastian, not Chris, Sebastian for having unrealistic expectations. He _should_ know Anthony never keeps any of his promises.

“His loss if he can’t see your worth,” Anthony says; gasoline words in a poisoned mouth.

“Your loss too,” Sebastian surprises himself saying, setting the gasoline on fire; three words able to set a man ablaze, just because it’s always been that easy with Anthony. Sebastian’s done trying to pretend and be nice. He doesn’t want to lie, he doesn’t want to play games, that’s not who he is, he’s not going to let Anthony change that. He’d win if he did.

“Is that what you think?”

“You let me go,” Sebastian replies, following Anthony’s own logic.

Sebastian expects the fire to take, but instead Anthony backtracks. Smart. “You’re right,” he says, leaving Sebastian confused, “but I do know what I lost.”

Sebastian turns his face to Anthony, dark-brown eyes staring back at him, like a predator preying. He’s hunting, or wooing, Anthony doesn’t know the difference. He uses love and acts of tenderness as weapons, uses words he always know how and when to pronounce. He knows the right time, the right tone. He got Sebastian to come back to him so many times.

They haven’t been this close in months, in fact, they haven’t seen each other since the day Sebastian left him and Sebastian starts feeling his heart beating everywhere, not only in his chest but in his belly too, in the veins of his neck, in his temples and his groin; heart beating fast and faster, anticipating. Maybe he’s a little more nostalgic than he is willing to accept.

Anthony made dark times tough but he made peaceful ones so sweet. Anthony’s honeyed voice always made his promises sound so real and enchanting. He made hell sound like heaven. But hell, as beautifully painted as you’d wish, is still hell and Sebastian is still going back and forth between _he-never-loved-me_ and _yes-yes-he-did_ because he can’t figure it out, because Anthony always has to make everything more difficult. Maybe Anthony did love him, or maybe he didn’t but it doesn’t matter anymore because his heart stopped beating for Anthony a while ago.

Anthony’s got that sad face, that heart-rending expression luring Sebastian into guilt and pity, Sebastian’s eyelashes flutter with emotion; nostalgia, definitely. Homesickness of what’s never been a safe home, for what’s never been a home at all, but it doesn’t matter anymore because his heart stopped beating for Anthony a while ago.

Anthony moves a little closer and Sebastian stares, heavy head and heavy heart, the impression of air grazing his lungs. _It doesn’t matter anymore because his heart stopped beating for Anthony a while ago._

“I shouldn’t have let you go,” Anthony murmurs softly, and Sebastian’s heart skips another beat. Stumbling and hopping between fear and unrecognizable feelings of old love haunting his chest, his heart begins to beat fast, fast, fast, booming inside his ribcage. Racing. Spine electrified, a shock travels all the way up to his brain.

Sebastian opens his eyes wide, heart so big in his ribcage it feels like exploding. Sour taste on his lips, mouth doused in gasoline words; bed as a pyre and conscience soiled, a wave of revulsion washes over him. Anthony did it again. Sebastian let Anthony fool him again. He pushes him away, “don’t do that!”

“What?” Anthony asks, fake innocence on the devil’s face. He knows exactly what, and he’s not the slightest sorry. He found a new way to paint hell as heaven, and Sebastian let himself be fooled again.

“Kiss me!” Sebastian answers, troubled, shaken up. “You can’t kiss me!” he repeats, sitting up. He’s upset with Anthony, with himself. He tricked him again, how does he even do that?

“ _You_ kissed me,” Anthony retorts, straightening as well, eyebrows uprising like he’s stating the absolute truth and there’s nothing Sebastian can say to prove him wrong.

Sebastian gets up on his feet, fleeing him. “No I didn’t!”

“You know you did,” Anthony chuckles, _chuckles._ “It’s okay, you miss me, I get it.”

“I don’t–” Sebastian starts but stops mid-sentence, staring, startled. Sebastian stares longer in the heavy silence; no. No. He’s lying. Anthony’s lying. He won’t let Anthony twist his mind anymore, he’s lying. Period. “I don’t miss you.”

“Then why were you kissing me?”

“I was not!” Sebastian says loud, but hearing himself makes him lower his tone, “ _you_ kissed me Anthony.”

“If it makes you feel better sweetheart,” Anthony smirks, “go ahead, say I kissed you, but deep down you know the truth. Just like you know you only went to Chris because I left you.”

“ _I_ left you,” Sebastian corrects him.

“Did you, really?” Anthony laughs again.

“I left you because you’re toxic,” Sebastian says. He’s standing there, wishing his legs would accept to walk towards the door, but he’s slowly growing roots under the carpets, paralyzed. “I’m not falling for your shit again.”

“Oh,” Anthony answers, laughing and shaking his head incredulously. “Toxic, uh?”

“Yeah.”

“Is Chris toxic too?” Anthony is standing up now and Sebastian doesn’t remember him to be this tall and impressive. He feels so little, trapped between him and the wall behind as Anthony walks closer. With Chris he feels little, but he feels protected, right now he feels threatened. “Is that why _you_ left him?”

Anthony makes another step closer and that’s when Sebastian’s legs finally accept to co-operate, walking backwards until he hits the wall behind; Anthony follows him closely.

“He’s nothing like you,” Sebastian manages to answer. He’s just a distraction to Anthony, that’s all he’s ever been to him. Tonight again, he’s just a game. He’s his favourite game to play, but Sebastian’s done being a pawn.

“Yeah, ‘cause he makes sweet love to you and treats you like a prince? C’mon Seb,” Anthony’s hand cups his chin and Sebastian yanks it away. “Playing hard to get uh? That’s fine, you know I like to–”

“Let me go or I scream,” Sebastian warns, trying to control his trembling hands.

Anthony laughs quietly again, amused; the air escaping his nostrils hit Sebastian’s skin violently. Sebastian’s against fighting but damn, he could throw a punch at that smug face. “I used to make you scream a lot,” Anthony says, smirking, liking whatever memories are coming to him, probably the same ones that make Sebastian wince and repeat, “Let. Me. Go.”

“You think he’d still want you?” Anthony asks, “Knowing you just kissed me?”

Sebastian’s heart squeezes. He wants to answer Chris would probably hurt him more than Anthony could fear, but he’s not sure anymore. Maybe Chris wouldn’t even care. That’d be the worst. The idea makes him feel sick all over again. Chris promised he wouldn’t let anyone hurt him, but Chris isn’t there, and Sebastian’s hurt. Chris doesn’t know, not yet at least but what if he doesn’t care the slightest? They’re not together anymore. Sebastian left him. That’d only be fair if Chris had nothing to say about that kiss, or maybe he’d feel like he’s not allowed to say a word. Sebastian wants him to say something. To kiss him and make that sour, disgusting and lasting taste on his lips disappear. He wants the softness of Chris’ hands, not the roughness of Anthony’s one tracing the bone of his jaw like he’s some sort of prize.

“ _You_ kissed me,” Sebastian answers.

“Let’s say I did–”

“– _You did_ –”

“ –D’you really think he’s gonna want you again? Look at you, all flushed with alcohol,” Anthony finishes his sentence, slightly upset with Sebastian’s remark. “If I were him,” he pauses, scanning Sebastian’s face, “I wouldn’t.”

“But you’re you, and you’re still trying to get me back months after I left you.” Sebastian has no idea of where this is coming from, but he delivers it with much more confidence than he really owns. “Now let me go,” he says, “for good. We’re over, Anthony, get over it.”

He catches Anthony off guard and seizes the chance to escape him. He’s moving to the door when Anthony finally speaks again, “Don’t play with me Seb, you know you’re gonna lose.”

Sebastian turns to him, stares at him straight in the eyes. “I’m not afraid of you anymore.”

Alright he lied, but Anthony looks away, nodding almost unnoticeably before looking back at Sebastian. “You know,” he starts, proud smile on his face like he’s about to tell a joke, “ _if_ I’m toxic, and Chris is too, maybe you should ask yourself if you’re not the problem.”

Sebastian stares a little longer, feeling the pain in his chest vividly. He swallows his disgust and storms outside, slamming the door behind him. He tries to gather himself before walking back to the main room. He takes a deep, deep breath, hands trembling. He doesn’t want to draw out in case Anthony decides to leave the room too, so he joins the rest of the guests.

Sebastian feels out place. Everyone’s laughing, chatting and he’s there, loose on dangling knees. He spots Scarlett by the piano and Sebastian doesn’t know what else to do, he just walks up to her. She smiles when she sees him but it fades when Sebastian’s close enough she can guess something happened. It drops off her lips then, before Sebastian’s even reached her, “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian shakes his head, “yeah I’m fine.”

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” she worries. “What happened?”

A hand squeezes his shoulder and Sebastian freezes. “Hey,” Jeremy reacts, “easy, that’s just me.” Sebastian turns to see him, make sure it’s Jeremy even though it’s his voice, for sure. In the corner of his eye Sebastian can see Chris, still at the bar.

“You okay?” Jeremy worries too, “you’re pale kid.”

“You just scarred me, that’s all,” Sebastian whispers, shameful to lie. “I’m fine,” he adds with a weak smile.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Jeremy answers, but he’s frowning, eyes observing Sebastian’s face, looking for more clues.

Scarlett pouts and shrugs lightly, willing to believe nothing’s wrong or that Sebastian might just had a little too much to drink. She’s gonna keep an eye on his consumption, he can bet. Jeremy though, Jeremy scans his face attentively, not as trustful. He let go eventually, and Sebastian zones out for a couple minutes.

Chris is stunning. Sebastian stares at him until Jeremy’s gesturing to meet him on the balcony. Sebastian sighs but finds a way to leave Scarlett discreetly.

“You should go talk to him,” Jeremy says.

“Chris?” Sebastian asks in disbelief. “Yeah,” he scoffs, “so Scarlett kicks my ass,” he answers sarcastically, a brief smile to entertain. He doesn’t want to incur her wrath. Scarlett is pretty damn scary when she’s pissed, it’s worse now that she’s pregnant. He doesn’t want to risk it.

“Don’t tell her I said that, but it’s clear you’re dying to talk to him,” Jeremy tells him. “I love her but it’s none of Scarlett’s business whatever’s going on between you two.”

“So you think I should?” Sebastian asks, needing reassurance, seeking approval.

“Doesn’t matter what _I_ think.”

Jeremy winks before leaving like a fairy godmother. He’s probably just making sure Scarlett will not see them talking together and put the blame on him later. But since he’s around…

“Jeremy wait,” Sebastian calls before Jeremy’s reached the glass door.

“Yeah?”

Sebastian shakes his head, hinting that he should walk back in his direction. He can barely bring himself to say that aloud, let alone shouting it across the balcony. Jeremy does, understanding it’s more private than their previous discussion.

“What is it?”

Jeremy looks concerned already. Sebastian needs to let it out of his chest and if he trusts anyone on this, it’s Jeremy. He’s probably the only person suspicious of Anthony’s kindness Sebastian knows. “Hum,” Sebastian swallows, inhales, exhales, looking around, “hum.”

Jeremy waits, not letting any sign of impatience go through.

“Anthony kissed me,” Sebastian confesses in a blast of air, but before Jeremy can say a word he adds the rest of the story, “I pushed him away but–” Sebastian risks a look at Jeremy’s expression and backtracks immediately, not going any further than “he’s saying _I_ kissed him.”

“ _He_ kissed you?” Jeremy asks, emphasizing his word; Sebastian nods.

“And you didn’t want him to?” He asks again; Sebastian shakes his head.

“And now his ego’s hurt so he’s saying you wanted it? That _you_ kissed him?” Sebastian nods again, that’s another way to say it. He wonders how Jeremy would put the rest of the events into words though, would he call that manipulation? Intimidation?

“I knew there was something unclear about that guy,” Jeremy says, frowning.

“Don’t,” Sebastian starts, “don’t do anything, just–”

“I’m not gonna do anything,” Jeremy reassures him, but he still sounds irritated by the news. “At least nothing you don’t want me to.”

Sebastian hears that as _say one word and I’ll take care of him for you_ but he doesn’t want that. Jeremy questions him, his eyes scanning his face for an answer Sebastian gives orally. “I just needed to, to tell someone you know, in case... I don’t know, in case something else happens.”

Jeremy nods. “Well if something else happens, you come straight to me.”

“What if,” Sebastian drawls, looking around, thinking about the possibility and the different scenarios, thinking about Anthony’s words earlier. “What if he tells Chris?”

“Do you really think he’d trust his version over yours?” Jeremy asks him with a kind and light smile. “You know him as much, if not better than I do. If Chris hears about it, Anthony’s a dead man.”

He’s probably right, of course Chris would be pissed to hear about it. Even if they’re not dating anymore, there’s no way Chris wouldn’t care. There’s no way he’d believe Anthony. But Sebastian still worries.

“Don’t say anything to Scarlett,” he demands, “please.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Jeremy nods but his eyes are telling Sebastian he’ll have to tell her at some point. Sebastian wants to, but he doesn’t know what frightens him the most right now: Scarlett’s reaction or Chris’. He already knows what Scarlett’s reaction will look like, but Chris’ is unpredictable.

They stay silent a little longer, until Jeremy speaks again. “I’m going back inside unless… You need me to stay?”

“No, no, that’s okay. I’m okay. You can go back to the party if you want.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian nods, faking a smile. “Yeah.”

“All right,” Jeremy says but checks his expression one last time to make sure, then he leaves Sebastian alone with his thoughts.

The whole Anthony story put aside, Jeremy is right. Nobody is stopping Sebastian to talk to Chris, and in the past few days Sebastian’s skimmed through their old pictures more often than he’s willing to admit. The truth is, even if Chris hurt him deep, Sebastian misses him as deep and he feels like he owes him an apology. Sebastian wants to apologize for leaving him the way he did. Looking back at it, he feels selfish and if he could go back, he wouldn’t leave at all.

God, he misses Chris so much. Just the sound of his voice, that’s all he wants. He’s tired of hearing his voice on the airwave; he needs to hear him speak. He needs Chris to talk to him, so Sebastian steps back inside hoping he’ll find Chris again.

He’s relieved to not cross paths with Anthony but wonders if he should tell Chris about what happened before Anthony gets the chance to. If he tells Chris, there’s a chance Chris gets mad, really mad, or he can not care at all. That’s still a possibility. And if Sebastian doesn’t tell Chris, he’s not lying but it still doesn’t feel right to hide that from him. Not that they’re dating anymore, he knows he doesn’t owe Chris any explanation for whatever he’s doing but still. And if Anthony tells Chris about if first, maybe Chris won’t want to hear Sebastian’s side of the story, or worse.

Sebastian decides to at least make a first contact with Chris before deciding on the smartest move. Chris is exactly where he’s been almost all night. Leaning on the bar, brooding over his drink. Sebastian takes a deep breath before joining him.

“Hey you,” he says softly, trying an approach – a bit ridiculous, he concedes.

Chris turns to face him, staring, surprised or shocked. He babbles something incomprehensible, which is kind of endearing before saying, “Hey.”

Sebastian offers a smile in return; damn he nearly forgot how handsome Chris is, so close. He looks tired though, little eyes and puffy face, doesn’t seem like he’s been fully awake for a really long time. Maybe he’s been sleeping all day, maybe he’s been partying all night.

Sebastian’s eyes fall on Chris’ hand holding a glass of whisky and, not meaning any harm, he asks, “Does Scarlett know you’re drinking?”

“She does,” Chris answers lowly, blinking, his long eyelashes brushing his cheeks. “She’s pissed.”

“That you’re drinking?” Sebastian wonders, because Scarlett’s pissed at everything lately.

“That I hurt you,” he answers, “but the drinking too, I suppose.”

Chris coughs to clear his throat.

“Maybe you should stop drinking then,” Sebastian says softly.

“That’s,” Chris drawls, looking down at his hand too now, “that’s the only thing I have left.”

Sebastian frowns slightly, “That’s not true.”

“Well,” Chris laughs painfully, an awful sad chuckle. “I don’t have a band anymore and I –I lost you, so,” he shakes his head, “alcohol, yeah, that’s only thing I have left but that’s fine, I’m fine.”

Chris keeps his eyes on his drink, playing with his glass and the liquid inside.

He’s calm, apologetic in his tone, sad even. Sebastian feels his heart pinched, Chris looks extremely tired. Sebastian’s seen Chris at his worst, or what he hopes is his worst. He’s seen things Chris probably wishes he never showed him, probably hated for him to see. And because Sebastian has seen the worst, he forgot the greatest for awhile. He’s seen Chris drunk a few times and not the good kind, he’s seen Chris crying and wrecked, stumbling, yelling his pain. Hurting himself. He’s seen Chris open-wounded and self-loathing, he’s seen a part of Chris he can never forget.

Seeing Chris with a drink in hand reminds Sebastian of that night where he was everything Chris had, before he left. He’s seen Chris at his lowest, pushed him even farther over the cliff and then he chose to leave, to give up on him. Sebastian’s seen Chris caught in the storm of his evil thoughts and he forgot what quiet looked like on him.

Now he remembers, and it’s breaking his heart. “You didn’t lose me,” he tells Chris.

“You hate me,” Chris laughs, “as you should,” he adds, taking a sip.

“I don’t hate you,” Sebastian confesses; more like the complete opposite, he wants to say.

“Don’t pity me, _please Sebastian_ , everything but pity.”

Chris calls him _Sebastian,_ calls him by his name and it sounds odd in his mouth. It sounds like Sebastian’s just an old friend, like he’s just… nobody. The tone of his voice makes Sebastian want to hug him. He misses Chris’ hugs, always so warm and securing, loving and comforting and protective. It’s depressing to hear the tone of his voice and see what Chris has become this past month. Sebastian wasn’t pitying him, he was-

“I miss you,” Sebastian says, and Chris looks up at him but those two eyes are too much to look at, troubling him. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s doesn’t mean– It’s just that –I don’t pity you, I miss you, that’s all.”

“I miss you too,” Chris whispers, eyes piercing with sadness and guilt and shame, fear too. “I fucked up, I’m sorry.”

“We both fucked up, you know,” Sebastian tells him, “I said things I regret, I apologise for that.”

“You had all the rights to say what you did,” Chris says, “truthfully? I deserved much worse.” He takes another long sip, “still do.”

“You didn’t, and you still don’t.”

Chris heaves a sigh, putting his glass down on the bar to grasp something in the pocket of his jeans. “I’m going for a smoke,” he tells Sebastian.

Oh.

Not that it’s surprising but he was at least hoping Chris would have got rid off this bad habit definitely. “You started again?”

Chris’ his eyebrows raise, followed by a quick smile, which was probably more pathetic than happy but it still makes Sebastian’s heart flutter. He misses the way he smiles, fake or sincere, he misses it. He just misses Chris.

“Can I join you?”

Chris looks at him for a bit, trying to understand what’s inside Sebastian’s mind. Sebastian’s not sure himself. He’s slowly starting to decrypt what his heart and brain are trying to get him to understand. They’re agreeing, for once.

“Sure,” Chris answers, leading the way outside.

It’s a warm night and Sebastian finds himself a little sad at this thought, no jacket to borrow. He follows Chris on the balcony, leaning against the handrail while Chris moves a little farther, putting the glass away to lighten the cigarette caught between his lips. A discreet spark of fire enlightens his face and the shadow of his nose lingers on his bearded cheek.

It’s completely silence for a while, Sebastian just observes Chris, his lips, his face. Sebastian looks at him taking a drag on his cigarette or a sip on his drink in complete silence. He’s handsome. Chris is handsome.

It smells beautifully outside, Scarlett’s flowers releasing a delightful scent. Some flowers Sebastian picked himself, the colourful ones, he likes purple, and red, and yellow, orange too. He misses the times where Chris would come home with another bouquet they’d have no idea where to put. For weeks they lived in a flower shop, with multi-coloured flowers and green plants everywhere. That white loft shining with hundreds of dazzling, rich and vivid colours. The floor dappled with rainbow petals that Sebastian loved to complain about before sweeping them off the floor.

Chris brings the glass to his lips again and, arms crossed over his chest, Sebastian steps away from the handrail. “You shouldn’t be drinking,” he says.

Chris looks back at him as soon as he speaks, confused by his voice and words and probably still by the fact he’s joined him on the balcony in the first place. “Why?”

Sebastian can’t help a soft smile to grow on his lips. A little nostalgic, he steps closer, as close as he can, lower back leaning against the handrail until he’s close enough that his arm touching Chris’.  Sebastian’s sure of himself now. He misses Chris too much.

“Because you don’t like drunken kisses,” he whispers.

Chris’ eyes widen a bit, adorably, he’s wondering if he heard what Sebastian just said correctly. He doesn’t believe, or doesn’t want to let himself believe he did hear correctly. That Sebastian did say those words. “What do you mean?” he asks, bemused, eyes scanning his whole face.

“I mean,” Sebastian starts, knowing there is no turning back once he says the words, “you can’t kiss me if you’re drunk.”

“You don’t mean that,” Chris answers carefully, letting Sebastian a chance to take back those words. But Sebastian doesn’t want to take them back, and he knows Chris doesn’t want him to take them back either.

“Why didn’t you kiss me last time we were here?” Sebastian asks, genuinely interested in the answer. He wanted it, he wanted Chris to kiss him at Scarlett’s birthday party and he knows Chris wanted it too; he just doesn’t understand why he didn’t. “I know you weren’t drunk.”

“I wasn’t, not exactly but you were,” Chris answers softly, “tipsy at least, you said it yourself.”

Sebastian remembers that night, how it felt to have Chris this close to kiss his lips and not doing so; the frustration, the touch of Chris’ hand when he left. How it felt to be wrapped in his warm jacket while the wintery night wind made him shiver and shake. He remembers the first time he heard Chris laugh and saw him smile, it was so easy he would have never guessed it was in fact so hard for Chris to do either. Chris stared at the stars the same way he stared at Sebastian that night, and that made Sebastian fall hard for him.

Chris never once stopped looking at him with the same wonder, fascination, with sparks in his eyes. He’s still looking at Sebastian like that right now.

“I wanted it to be different,” Chris adds, seeing Sebastian isn’t making a sound. “I didn’t want to hurt you, ‘guess it didn’t work out that well,” he ends in an ashamed murmur.

Sebastian turns back to face the city, Chris’ words resonating inside his head. Anthony is still in the back of it, still ghosting like he always will, but Sebastian mutes his voice and sews his lips. He’s not going to ruin this. He stretches his arms to take a better grip at the handrail, looking up at the stars and the moon. He smiles and laughs lightly, making Chris look at him.

“You know,” Sebastian says, feeling his eyes on him, “I did something really crazy once.”

“What do you mean?” Chris worries, eating the first word of his question.

Sebastian smiles, gazes between the stars and Chris’ face. “Remember the night of the Grammys?”

A smile ghosts over Chris lips and Sebastian decides he’s much more beautiful to look at than the skyline. “How could I forget?”

“I told you I loved you,” Sebastian starts, blushing.

“That’s what was crazy?” Chris cuts him, slightly amused.

“No,” Sebastian laughs, “well maybe that was crazy too, but no, that’s not what I meant.” Chris keeps looking at him, marvelling a little at the sound of his voice laughing. Chris’ eyes are gleaming, and it’s troubling him.

“The next morning I just,” Sebastian pauses, smiling, trying to find his words, “you were asleep and I was looking at you, remembering what happened and,” he chuckles almost silently. Blushing bright red he looks as far away as he can, looks at the never ending line of buildings in the horizon for a few seconds. “Nah, I’m not telling you.” Sebastian turns again to look at Chris, “take a guess.”

“I don’t know,” Chris smiles, his cheekbones rising beautifully and his eyes crinkling wonderfully. “You left something in my apartment I never found?”

“No,” Sebastian blinks, feeling the heat in his cheek. Damn it, he’s tipsy. “I could have though, but no. Although there are probably some of my stuff still at your place, and I have like three of your shirts I sleep with sometimes.”

“Have you been drinking?” Chris asks, amused and endeared by his confessions.

“Just a glass of champagne so I’m good, if you were wondering. Not tipsy yet, or just a little,” he says because he still want that kiss, “just enough to have the courage to tell you that story.”

“Good,” Chris nods. “I don’t know,” he shakes his head as Sebastian still waits for him to guess, “tell me.”

“Yeah?” Sebastian asks. Chris hums acquiescence so Sebastian confesses it, feeling ridiculous as soon as the words leave his lips, “I bought you a star.”

“You did _what_?”

Chris is laughing, and Sebastian shouldn’t be drowning in that marvellous sound but it fills his lungs with love and he never felt more alive than by putting a smile on those broken lips. “I named it Evans,” he adds, laughing softly along with Chris, mocking himself and his stupid romanticism.

“You bought me a star?” Chris asks, but he’s slowly losing his smile.

“Yeah, I told you it was crazy,” Sebastian says. “Although it’s not as big as it seems, it’s like a hundred bucks or something, and I only have like a piece of paper but – I just –I know how much you love them and I don’t know, it made sense that morning, I was trying to be romantic.” Sebastian looks away, ashamed of his confession. Chris is not smiling anymore, losing all happiness and Sebastian doesn’t understand why. Did he say something wrong? It’s supposed to be funny, not sad.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Chris asks, “I mean, before.”

Sebastian shakes his head lightly. Pouting, he shrugs before meeting Chris’ eyes again. “I’m not sure, I guess I realized it was maybe a little too much,” he laughs, “I mean, I can be too much sometimes. I thought this was too much. I was just waiting for the perfect moment to tell you, maybe in ten years when we’d be married or something.”

“Married?”

Sebastian swallows; he didn’t mean to say that. This is why he shouldn’t be drinking alcohol, ever. He doesn’t know whether he’s smiling or not, his face is trembling, that’s all Sebastian knows.

“You thought we’d get married?” Chris asks, or Sebastian thinks he does. His voice is low and he might be just thinking out loud. “Have kids?” He asks again, and his lips curve into a painful smile.

“Four.”

Chris frowns, “What?”

“Kids,” Sebastian explains. “I was thinking,” he takes a deep breath, “I was thinking we’d have four kids, you know, and a big house, somewhere quiet, lots of trees, two pianos so we wouldn’t have to fight to play. You’d teach them, the kids, to play the piano, or the guitar or the triangle or whatever, you’re a good teacher.”

Chris laughs this time but his eyes are wet with tears. “Pets?”

“Dogs, I think two dogs.”

Chris considers his answer, probably beating himself over it for some reason Sebastian doesn’t want to understand, then Chris asks, “That’s you wanted?” and his mouth hangs open. He’s looking for words, he’s not crying yet but he’s close to it. “A family? With me?”

“Not what I wanted, no,” Sebastian answers, “that’s still what I want.”

Chris leans in then, hesitantly, the palm of his hand comes to nestle against Sebastian’s cheek and the warmth coming from it is familiar and cosy. It’s barely pressing, just sliding, his long fingers and manly hands caressing softly. His lips follows not long after, Sebastian closes his eyes and they reach his unhurriedly, kissing him softly and Sebastian melts into their delicateness, feeling like home for the first time in a while.

He shivers from the wind brushing his back and Chris pulls him closer to keep him warm. He smells like smoke and taste like whisky but Sebastian doesn’t mind, it’s Chris’ lips and they’re kissing him, lazily but lovingly. His cold nose tickles his cheek and Sebastian kisses back, his hand landing on Chris’ chest and touching the muscles hidden underneath his shirt.

He knows every humps of that perfect chest. He remembers them as he wanders over his shirt. He knows the exact curves of his pecs as he brushes them through the material. He knows the size of his neck as his thin fingers move to his hair. He missed running his fingers through his hair. He missed the thinness of those fiercely, loving lips on his and Sebastian melts entirely. Every bone, every muscle thawing as Chris wraps his arms around him and holds him enough for two.

He remembers that first night and it’s like correcting a wrong, going back in time to correct the past; but not fully. He doesn’t want to go back and change the past. Chris’ hands and lips are full of memories that comes to Sebastian one after the other. That hand on his back is that first kiss on the parking lot, his arms holding him tight is when they kissed in his kitchen and that hand moving up to his hair is waking up next to him for the first time and seeing him bleary-eyed but with a smile on his lips.

That kiss on his mouth is every time Chris proved he loved him even though he was too overwhelmed to understand. His tongue carefully asking permission to go farther is that night on the rooftop and Chris kissing him wholeheartedly is that one time he finally let out those words to reassure Sebastian he’s always, in fact, loved him. Sebastian wouldn’t want to go back and change a single thing, of course he has scars but they all remind him of something that led them to meet again on this balcony tonight and earn a new start.

Because they earned a new start.

Chris tries to pull away a few times but Sebastian doesn’t let him. Chris doesn’t insist, getting back in the pleasant kiss. “I don’t want to hurt you ever again,” Chris whispers eventually when Sebastian finally agrees to let go of his lips.

“You won’t.” Sebastian keeps his eyes closed.

“I’m serious,” Chris answers, his arms letting go of his body and Sebastian has to stand on both feet without falling down. Has to open his eyes and let go of Chris. Chris’ fingers are brushing above Sebastian’s ear just like he loves it, reassuring, tender, loving. “I’m not healed,” Chris whispers close, “I’m still drunk half of the time, I don’t want that for you.”

It hurts to hear the truth, but this time Sebastian knows what he’s done wrong and he knows Chris can’t do it alone. “Let me help you,” he asks, hoping Chris will say yes because he didn’t just kiss him to lose him all over again.

“I can’t ask you that.”

“You’re not asking, I want to. I want to help you.”

Chris is staring at him with his hand still stroking his cheek and Sebastian wants to nuzzle it, his hands are always so big and firm but soft and sweet. And warm. Chris is always incomprehensively warm.

“I left you when you needed me, but I’m here now,” Sebastian says, closing his eyes again and pushing a little against Chris’ hand, “maybe a little late, but I am here now, if you want me.”

“I always want you,” Chris breathes out. His hand slides against Sebastian’s cheek smoothly.

“Then let me help you,” Sebastian says, turning his face to fit perfectly in the curve of his open hand. “We’re gonna get through this,” he repeats and his eyes flutter opens when he adds, “If you let me help you we can get through this, together. I’m not leaving you again.”

Chris is fearful, Sebastian understands why but he shouldn’t be because Sebastian believes now. Because Anthony never deserved another chance, but Chris is good at heart. People always say to trust your gut and he believes Chris is worth a last chance. Maybe he’s a fool to think so, but if loving Chris is insane Sebastian doesn’t want to be wise. He wants to be reckless for once. He wants to believe in his fairytale, he wants to believe in his happy ending. He wants to believe Chris is a phoenix, his phoenix.

Anthony makes him sick but Chris makes him feel alive again, and maybe Chris was the one who took Sebastian’s breath away when he left, but Chris kissed him and the whole world started to spin again. Sebastian’s light on his feet and he feels like floating and that’s not the champagne.

“Why are you taking me back?” Chris asks, “You should hate me.”

“You warned me, remember?” Sebastian answers. “Our first night together, we woke up and you warned me you’d hurt me, you wanted me to stay away and I told you I could handle it.”

“You didn’t know I’d hurt you that bad.”

“I didn’t, no but I thought –with everything I went through with Anthony, I thought I could face anything.”

“He hurt you that bad?”

There’s sadness and resentment in Chris’ question. That’s how Sebastian feels too, sad mostly, because Anthony loved to make him believe he mattered when he’s always been just another distraction. Not everyone should deserve a second chance but Anthony abused his, and all of the others. Anthony shattered Sebastian’s heart to the point Sebastian thought he’d never fix it, and you might get other chances but you never get new hearts. Anthony loves to play and he keeps playing months after, he’s a stained memory Sebastian will never be able to get rid off. Sebastian will always doubt himself because Anthony put those fears and doubts in his brain. That’s why he’s upset, because he let Anthony damage him while he sat there silently waiting for the hurricane to ravage him.

But Chris isn’t the same kind of hurricane. Chris put Sebastian through harm he never meant. Chris would never kiss him without his agreement. He’d never even talk to him without Sebastian wanting it. Anthony turned himself into a hurricane because he thinks it’s tremendous to frighten and hold total control; Chris was born a breeze that turned into a blast of wind before ending in a hurricane. Life shaped him.

Anthony tricked Sebastian into staying, Chris tricked Sebastian into leaving and while Sebastian understood Anthony’s game he failed to see the truths in Chris’ lies.

“He hurt differently,” Sebastian says, “you hate yourself for what you put me through and you care about me; he doesn’t regret anything.”

Chris is staring at him, analysing every micro-expression, every wobble in his voice, everything he can see, hear and feel. He probably wants to know more, know exactly what Anthony’s done but Sebastian wouldn’t be able to explain even if he wanted to. That’s why he never said anything to Scarlett, to anyone before, because he can’t put into words that lingering sick feeling in his chest whenever he thinks about those times. But he can tell Chris about tonight, he doesn’t want to hide it from him if they’re starting something new. Chris will believe him, he doesn’t doubt that, and he doesn’t doubt Chris will be mad, now that’s just a matter of how mad he’ll get.

“He kissed me,” Sebastian murmurs and Chris’ expression hardens; he only said three words but Chris already understood what he’s trying to say. “Earlier,” he adds, the taste of gasoline in his mouth getting him sick again.

“You didn’t want him to,” Chris states, doesn’t ask. He tenses slightly.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about him, about… about us,” Sebastian tells Chris. He doesn’t want to waste their time talking about Anthony but Chris needs to know. If he wants to understand Sebastian, he needs to know. “He’s... He’s not a good person, Chris, really not.”

“Was that the first time?” He asks, and Sebastian’s eyes narrows, trying to understand what Chris means. Chris helps, “that he forced you into something you didn’t want?”

Sebastian doesn’t know how to answer that. Maybe yes, maybe no, probably yes but he can’t know for sure. He was never himself when they were together; he was never totally free in this relationship. But if Chris is talking about the pictures then, “the pictures were his idea, but he never forced me into doing them.”

Chris nods, but his jaw is clenched; he’s angry.

“Kiss me?” Sebastian tries, to soothe him; it works, a little at least. Chris relaxes, surprised by the request. He does, kiss him, lovingly and his lips might taste like whisky and cigarette but they taste hundreds times better than Anthony’s. They’re pink with love not grey from ashes and dust. They taste sweet, they’re soft and pulpy like cotton candy and Sebastian doesn’t want to spend too much time away from them anymore. Chris’ hand is still warm against his cheek and he doesn’t want his hand to ever stop touching him either, but Sebastian pulls away eventually, knowing Chris is over-thinking all he’s just said.

“You’re not a bad person, Chris,” Sebastian says, stopping Chris from thinking too much about things he can’t know nor understand. His hand reaches for Chris’ forearm and he leaves a peck in the palm of his hand. “I wish you could see that. I want you to see that because you don’t deserve the way you think about yourself. Believe me, I know evil and that’s not you.”

Chris’ hand leaves Sebastian’s cheek to find Sebastian’s hand instead. He stares at Sebastian while he brings it to his lips to kiss the back of knuckles. “What on earth have I done to deserve you?” he asks, lips moving delicately against Sebastian’s skin.

“Just promise me you’ll let me help this time,” Sebastian insists, he needs to hear it. “No more lies, games, no more tricks.”

“I promise you,” Chris murmurs. “No more lies,” he pulls Sebastian closer to kiss him, “no more games,” another kiss, “no more tricks.”

Chris kisses him kindly, tenderly, and Sebastian hums against his lips before drawing away. His nose sticking to Chris’, Sebastian asks sheepishly, “take me home?”

“You really don’t want to take that slowly, do you?” Chris laughs quietly, burying his face in the crook of Sebastian’s neck.

“Then you have no idea how much I missed you,” Sebastian answers against his ear.

“I think I do. I think I missed you just as much.”

“So,” Sebastian drawls, “are you taking me home?”

Chris laughs again, kisses the skin of his neck. “Sure,” he says before looking up at Sebastian.

Sebastian smiles quickly. “I’m gonna get my stuff,” he says without moving, just staring at Chris and it comes to him for some reason, “can I ask you one more thing?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t call me Sebastian ever again,” he says, blushing at his request, and there he’s sure it’s the champagne talking. “I feel like a stranger when you use my name,” he confesses, but what he means is that he misses the way Chris calls him ‘baby’ an awful lot. He’s been dreaming of Chris using that stupid pet name. That’s how much he misses it. Chris’ face brightens with a smile, a sincere and beautiful smile and Sebastian has to bite his lower lip slightly.

“I love you,” Chris whispers.

“I love you,” Sebastian tells him back before they melt into another kiss.

Sebastian eventually draws away, smiling against Chris’ cheek before hiding against the firm muscles of his chest. “Gonna get my stuff,” he says, giggling. He walks towards the glass door with a smile on his face, Chris not letting go of his hand until he can’t hold it anymore, Sebastian walking too far.

Jeremy winks at him when he steps back into the living-room which leads Sebastian to think he’s planned the whole thing; and maybe watched the whole thing. Jeremy knows them, talked to both of them, he knew how they felt and he helped. Fairy godmother.

Sebastian gets to the guest room where he left his jacket. He smiles to himself again at the idea of going home with Chris. He glances at the bed and he smiles wider, Anthony will not win this one. But when he opens the door of the bedroom, Sebastian slowly starts hearing animation that isn’t just music coming from the main room. It’s like a loud chat, like a… verbal fight.

Sebastian strides to join everyone. Chris is standing in front of Anthony. Sebastian looks for Jeremy or Scarlett but neither of them are around and the tone increases fast. Sebastian doesn’t understand what they’re saying until he steps closer, hurrying himself. Not bothering to ask what’s going on, he slides between them, voices louder and tension palpable. Chris is seething, Sebastian can feel that as soon as he steps in front of him and his hand lands on Chris’ chest. He’s tensed.

Sebastian’s got no idea what happened, why the fight started but he left Chris alone no more than a couple minutes, at most. He doesn’t understand much but Sebastian won’t let Anthony ruin this night. Chris promised and Sebastian knows, he’s sure Chris has nothing to do with this; he wouldn’t risk it. He wouldn’t risk losing Sebastian over a stupid fight. Sebastian knows that.

Or he hopes.

But Chris is tensed again. Sebastian’s trying to put himself in front of Chris because he _knows_ Chris would never hurt him, he knows, trusts him and uses it. He uses this advantage not to protect Anthony, but to protect Chris. Not that Anthony would hurt Chris, not physically, there’s no doubt Chris would make a mess out of him in no time if he was to try. A bloodbath already haunting the floor in advance –Chris once said he wouldn’t let anyone hurt Sebastian. And this is Chris proving it.

Sebastian also knows Anthony can be mischievous but he’s not the violent kind, or he wasn’t, but all it takes is a raise of testosterone.

That could cost Chris’ career, his reputation. It’s all they have in their world: an image. Sebastian refuses to let Chris scratch what’s left of his over him. Over this. Whatever it is. This stupid fight. Because Chris is still known as that bad boy, and it’s been worse since those pictures with that girl and the break-up and Anthony’s a sweetheart to everybody else. In a fist fight Chris would win, for sure, but for the media? Chris would be seen as the bad guy, again. Sebastian’s sure Anthony knows that too, and he’s sure he’s playing with Chris’ nerves like he played him earlier.

Sebastian’s pressing his tiny body against Chris’ in vain, trying to push him back or at least to stop him to get closer.

“Chris, Chris please, let’s go,” he says, repeats like it’s one of his greatest hits. “He’s not worth it,” he tells him, cradling Chris’ bristly cheeks to force him to look down. “He’s not worth it,” he murmurs again, and Chris looks deep into his eyes, he knows he’s disappointing Sebastian but he’s fuming and it’s hard to make the right choice when you’re on fire. Sebastian forgives that.

Anthony speaks again and Sebastian loses the little attention he finally got a grip on.

“Listen to your little girlfriend Chris, she’s right,” Anthony says, entirely amused by the situation.

Chris fumes, muscles contracting and Sebastian presses himself harder against his body. “Don’t listen to him, c’mon,” Sebastian says, trying to speak over Anthony’s voice so Chris can only hear the sound of his. He keeps scanning the room, hoping Jeremy will show up because now would a great time. Sebastian’s too tiny to hold Chris back and he’s starting to slide on the floor slightly. “Chris, look at me, _look at me_ ,” he begs, trying to get him to look down again.

Chris does.

“He gives a good head, uh?” Anthony says with a smile Sebastian can hear in his tone, and Chris wants to smash his face against the bar, Sebastian can see it in that awful red spark growing in his eye before he looks up at Anthony again. Anthony knows what the greatest buttons to push are and he’s just slamming them now. “That’s what I miss the most, _oh_ and the way he looks on his kne–”

“ _You shut your fucking mouth!_ ” Chris rages, muscles contracting under Sebastian’s tiny hands.

“Chris he’s not worth it, you’re better than this,” Sebastian repeats again, louder, trying to push him away from Anthony but he’s too heavy and solid on his feet. Chris doesn’t want to move and Sebastian doesn’t have the strength to force him to. “ _C'mon_!” Sebastian says louder again, irritated, wanting everything to end already. He wants to go home with Chris.

Everybody’s staring at them and he’s uncomfortable. Not because of everyone staring or because of what Anthony just said, he’s uncomfortable because they’re fighting over him and oh god, what if it just all started because of that kiss? Anthony must have said something about that kiss. Of course Chris wouldn’t let it go because Sebastian told him Anthony played him.

“Yeah Chris c’mon, Sebastian’s not worth the fight,” Anthony speaks again ,and that disgusting honeyed dripping voice makes Sebastian snap.

“ _Just shut the fuck up!”_ He shouts, turning to Anthony. He tries again, hands on Chris’ chest, “Chris _please_ ,” he calls louder. “He’s not worth it, _come on_ ,” he scolds and begs at the same time, pushing against him. It seems to be working a little because Chris is lighter against him but not enough for Sebastian to move him. Chris is slightly turning towards the door and Sebastian thinks it might be finally be over until –until Anthony speaks again and –

“Yeah he’s not worth it Chris, c’mon, he’s just another cock slut,” he says, overly amused by his announcement and those last words roll on Anthony’s tongue like waves on the ocean. It crashes as hard in Sebastian’s ears as it would crash against the rocks, crushing his heart in his chest like tides against a cliff in the middle of a storm.

Sebastian crumbles down with it, with every rock of the cliff. He freezes, knees weak and soul leaving his body or it’s just a ghost of a past humiliation sneaking back inside him for a visit of courtesy. He’s been happy for too long on that balcony. Anthony had to crush him.

Sebastian’s hand on Chris’ chest falls down and he’s not stopping Chris anymore. Chris knows it, feels it and he walks past him. Strides past him, jumps past him; Sebastian doesn’t know, doesn’t care, doesn’t see. He doesn’t see anything, back to the action. Within all the sounds from the agitation in the room, the only thing he can hear is the word echoing inside his head.

Jeremy grabs his arm and pulls him away then, and the step Sebastian takes is one to a whole new world, smearing the beautiful colours he finally found back in Chris’ eyes. They faded, the whole room is just sad and grey without a sound but that insult that’d bring Sebastian to his knees if Jeremy wasn’t holding him.

That’s what Anthony does. He turns Sebastian and everything around into something bland. He’d make the most beautiful roses wilt with his solely presence. Sebastian’s heart isn’t even beating fast; in fact it might have slowed down if not just stopped. He leaves a piece of himself from where Jeremy pulls him off and he feels empty from its loss. He’s not sure what that piece is, but there’s a little innocence and insouciance in it.

Jeremy calls his name, Sebastian hears it. Once, twice. Then Scarlett is there too, her red pulpy lips are moving and even though Sebastian can tell it’s his name she’s pronouncing, all Sebastian can hear is the same word over and over again. And Anthony’s voice giving it some kind of life.

“Seb,” Jeremy calls once more and it’s like Sebastian was underwater and he can finally hear again, slowly, softly. That wave of word pushed him closer against the cliff in the middle of the storm. His body hit the sharp rocks again and again until his skin’s scratched off and Sebastian’s left bare nerved and drowning while Jeremy tries to get his attention.

That’s how he feels right now; more than the pictures, more than Chris’ broken promises, the word buried Sebastian six feet under ground. Because if being exposed naked on internet is one thing, and having your heart rip off is another, treason beats them all, and by far. Betrayal is the worst of the feelings, because Sebastian loved him and gave him so much and he’s been duped.

Sebastian loves and gives, asking nothing in return and he gets called a cock slut.

“Seb!” Jeremy calls again and it’s clear in his ears now. It’s an electric shock and Sebastian feels like functioning again. He shut down. Without a warning, he shut down. Sebastian turns back and Chris and Anthony are fighting against the bar. It felt like an eternity but it was just a few seconds. Chris is hitting Anthony’s jaw with his knuckles and he isn’t holding back his strength. No. _No_.

“Do something!” Sebastian turns to Jeremy, “please do something!”  No, no this not good, this is bad, really bad. It’s his fault and Chris is going to pay the price. “Jeremy stop him please!” Sebastian says as tears drips down his face.

“Get him outside,” he orders Scarlett. It sounds like an order. It must be one. It’s so firm and determined, that’s an order and Scarlett obeys, grabbing Sebastian’s arm. She tries to drag him outside but Sebastian protests.

“No,” Sebastian says, yanking his arm away as he can see Chris _fighting_. “Chris!” He calls loud, desperately attempting to resonate him, stupidly believing the sound of his voice can make Chris stop, but he can’t probably even hear him.

“Stay there,” Sebastian overhears Jeremy tell Scarlett.

Jeremy’s quick to reach him and pass him, at his turn he grabs Sebastian forearm. “Hey, let me handle this,” he says, and he’s being serious. As serious as he was when he and Chris almost fought weeks ago. “Let me handle this,” he repeats, even more serious, but it doesn’t get to Sebastian’s brain. It just doesn’t. All he’s focusing on is Chris fighting and it drives him out of his mind.

“Sebastian go wait outside!” Jeremy says louder. He’s probably shouting but all Sebastian can hear is Anthony’s damned insult. His vision’s all blurred by his tears and he’s somewhat grateful because he can’t see Chris. He doesn’t want to see Chris fighting. “ _Fuck_ ,” Jeremy finally drops, letting go of Sebastian’s forearm. He disappears then.

Sebastian’s still standing there when Scarlett’s fingers curl around his arm and she pulls him closer, hugging him. Her other hand travels through his hair and she whispers, “come with me.” And Sebastian follows her this time, without protesting, just sniffling quietly.

She takes him to the balcony where Sebastian can’t see any of the action, curtains shut against the glass door; his eyes are full of tears anyway. She keeps him there, trying to calm him and soothe him before she understands there nothing to do, not yet. Not her.

Sebastian is losing his mind, pacing in circles.

He was fine, Chris was fine, they were fine. Fresh new start, he dared to believed, he risked to. And he had to step in again, Anthony, _he had to_ ; of course he had to. Sebastian knew from the beginning that something would go wrong, and there he is, crying at the same spot Chris kissed him just a few minutes ago.

Chris.

They’ll all say he’s a bad guy again, say he’s always been one and he’ll always be one. And Chris will believe it. He’s the first one to say it’s trash, that you shouldn’t read that kind of press but he’s just like anybody else, he reads it anyway and a part of him believes. Only it’s always so dark about him, they’re always so unfairly mean with him. Just a line will wake up his inner demons. Sebastian can’t lose him to them. _No._ Not after everything, he can’t lose him to his demons, not again. He’s gonna lose him. He’s gonna lose him…

Tears are streaming down his face when Sebastian sees Chris passing the door; he strides to him, angry and scared. Haunted by the idea they’re going to win Chris all over again. “Why’d you do that?” Sebastian shouts. He steps back, hands over his face, hiding, covering his eyes even though he already can’t discern anything through the tears. “Why did you fight?” he asks more softly. He doesn’t want to move closer to Chris, he doesn’t want to.

His mind is just fog. He’s back in the water, back on top of the cliff. Fog and smoke all around, he can’t see anything but the smell is sour. Anthony’s mark, everything is sour where he goes. Sebastian’s drowning in the ocean and standing on the ledge cliff at the same time. He’s cold in the deep water and the fresh air is brushing his skin, wind howling in his back. Trees are shaking, dancing with the wind, leaf crying in a painful melody. It’s so thick he can’t see the beacon from the lighthouse.

Chris is silent.

But Sebastian needs to let it out. He needs to before he falls off the ledge, before he drowns, before the world decides to stop spinning again. Sebastian walks closer, again, tiny weak fists hitting Chris’ chest. It’s light. He doesn’t want to hurt, he doesn’t even have the strength to.

“Why did you fight?” he repeats. _Why did you leave me?_

He’s losing Chris, he’s slipping through his fingers again. He can feel it. So close. They were so close. Sebastian can hear the media, he can see Chris sitting in the kitchen. Crying, drinking, hating himself. He can hear the sound of the bottle hitting the floor, the sound of his head hitting the fridge. He can hear them all over again, it’s like reliving a dreadful nightmare. He can see the distress on Chris’ face and he can hear the words. He can hear Chris say it’s over because Sebastian would be better off without him.

That is not true. Sebastian tried and he knows that is not true.

Sebastian collapses against Chris’ chest. _No_. He’s not going to let go of Chris so easily. He takes the time to take a deep breath, Chris’ scent filling his lungs. Everything’s quiet behind the loud rumble of the blood in his temples, and Sebastian peeks at his right, Scarlett’s not standing there anymore, she left. They’re alone.

Sebastian’s sobbing, sniffling, trying to calm down. This is not how this night was supposed to end. Chris wraps his arms around him cautiously, but strongly. He hugs him, tight and close. Nothing can ever hurt Sebastian in his arms and Sebastian closes his eyes, lets himself be carried away from that cliff and ocean.

“I’m sorry,” Chris says, but he’s not apologizing for anything _but_ making Sebastian cry. He wanted to punch Anthony in the face, and he’s not apologizing for doing so. Sebastian wouldn’t let him apologize for it anyway. Anthony deserved it.

“Thank you,” Sebastian murmurs against his chest, ashamed and guilty of appreciating Chris stepping out for him. Because he _is_ thankful, not that Chris fought, but that Chris defended him when Sebastian stood there voiceless and numb, when Anthony thought he could play another game and get by fine. “Can we leave now?”

Chris tightens his hug, his chin resting on Sebastian’s head. “You still want to leave with me?” He asks, genuinely surprised.

Sebastian nuzzles his face against Chris’ white Henley he’s probably soiling with his tears. Chris takes a deep breath and Sebastian feels his chest heaving under his ear. He drops a kiss on the top of his head. “You should go home and get some sleep.”

“What?” Sebastian answers, looking up at Chris. _No._

_No._

“You should go home,” Chris repeats, and Sebastian still can’t believe what he’s hearing. Chris wipes a tear off his cheek delicately before pressing his lips there.

 _No._ Sebastian’s not giving up this time, he’s not leaving Chris again. If Anthony is not allowed to play anymore games, neither is Chris. He promised earlier and that fight doesn’t change anything. Sebastian doesn’t want to hear any “ _I’m not good for you_ ” or “ _you should leave me_.” He swears he’s going to punch Chris in the face if he repeats “ _I keep hurting you_ ” one more time because it’s infuriating when he does. _Yes,_ Chris hurts him but god, how much joy does he bring him too.

“I’m not going home without you,” Sebastian retorts, frowning. Chris still has both arms tight around him. He doesn’t want to let go of Sebastian. He’s saying what he thinks is the right thing to do. But it’s not. It’s really not. _And Chris knows it._

“Don’t start, please,” Chris sighs. “I don’t wanna fight with you.”

“ _No_ ,” Sebastian repeats, “I’m not leaving without you.”

How hard is it to understand that he’s not as bad as he think he is? Chris is not walking around with a knife, threatening to hurt anyone, he’s living his life, like everyone else, with that buff body and those sharp edges and yes he hurts but he patches whatever wound he causes.

“I don’t want to hurt you again,” he says, his thumb brushing Sebastian’s cheek again. “I’ve done enough damages already–”

“ _Stop saying that_ ,” Sebastian cuts him off.

It’s not often that Sebastian loses his temper but he’s starting to lose grip on his emotions. He’s done having the same conversation over and over again. He’s done letting Chris think so little of himself. Chris makes him happy, it shouldn’t be so hard to understand. It’s so fucking simple actually. He makes Sebastian happy and he doesn’t want to accept that. He doesn’t to believe he’s responsible of something else than pain.

“But it’s true,” Chris insists, strangely too calm. “Look, I haven’t changed the slightest. I’m drunk, I just got into a fight–”

“ _I don’t care!”_ Sebastian shouts. Chris stares, startled. This may be the first time Sebastian finds himself shouting in a while, besides Anthony earlier. He’s fighting for what he wants and he takes a step back. He’s not in Chris’ arms anymore and the wind brushes his skin but he doesn’t shiver. “God forgive me for saying that but Anthony deserved it, and yes you’re drunk but _I don’t care_.”

“You should,” Chris cuts him, almost emotionless but the heave of his chest betrays him.

He’s back in that armour, pretending to be a knight. Sebastian doesn’t want a knight, he wants his phoenix. Chris is back in that armour, that shell and Sebastian hates it. He hates when Chris pretends to say the right things and do the right things because he’s pushing him away when they could just _talk_. Chris is afraid of a stable relationship because he’s afraid of screwing up so bad but they’re passed that. They screwed up, both of them, a few times, but they’re both here now. On that balcony where it all started and Sebastian’s not leaving until Chris admits what he really wants.

“You should care more about yourself and less about me,” Chris adds.

“Why is it so hard for you to understand that _I love you,_ Chris ? And that I _don’t_ want to leave you?” Sebastian asks, still not calm. He’d like to calm down but they’re going to talk this through because Sebastian’s not leaving without answers.

“ _Because I was broken before I met you!”_ Chris finally shouts, “And you just showed up in my life without a fucking warning! You put a smile on my fucking face, _you made me smile_ and laugh and fall in love with you _and I don’t know how to love anyone!_ ” His lips are trembling, Chris is trembling. “I swear to you I’ve never loved anyone like I love you, and it’s terrifying and I keep screwing up and I keep hurting you.”

Sebastian swallows. Chris stares, calms down slightly. “I don’t fucking understand what you can find to love in me...” Chris looks away, “I’m ten years older than you.”

“Oh come on,” Sebastian lets out in a blast of air. “Not that,” he nearly begs, tears in his eyes, others rolling on his cheeks. “You know that’s never been an issue between us.”

“I’ve done you so much wrong,” Chris says, “so much wrong and you’re still willing to give me more chance. Why? I don’t understand why.”

“I might be naïve but I’m not an idiot,” Sebastian answers, because he is, naïve. He always wants to believe fairytales are true and he always wants to believe people can change. He knows Chris regrets everything. They wouldn’t be having this conversation if Chris didn’t care about him so much.

“I’m only giving you another chance because I know you deserve it,” Sebastian explains, speaking a little too fast, his throat parched and tight. “I can’t expect you to trade your life in a day or two and I wanted you to feel better but I wasn’t willing to wait, _I didn’t help you_. I sat there and I watched you and then I got angry, but I’ve never done anything to help.”

“It wasn’t your job,” Chris murmurs, stepping close, carefully. Sebastian wipes a tear away with his hand, he can’t see Chris’ face distinctly but the little he sees is breaking his heart.

“See, I disagree,” Sebastian says, hearing his own voice breaking. “I was your boyfriend, it was my job to help you,” Chris steps closer and his hand lands on his hips, making him gasp, “and not turn my back on you when you needed someone was part of that job.”

“You left because I hurt you,” Chris says softly, looking into his eyes. “You didn’t turn your back on me. I chased you.”

“Doesn’t matter what happened, I’m here now,” he reminds Chris. Sebastian just wants to forget about that night and about that fight and start a fresh new life finally. They earned it. “I love you and I’m _not_ leaving you. Four kids, two dogs and a cabin in the woods, right?”

“And two pianos,” Chris murmurs, nodding softly, his nose caressing Sebastian’s as he leans in to kiss him.

The kiss is as soft, calm and quiet, not even the sound of their lips meeting. Chris’ nose is cold on his cheek but his lips are warm and sweet and soft. Sebastian keeps his eyes closed, afraid if he opens them Chris will say something else. Afraid that Chris will say that, despite all they’ve just said, they shouldn’t be together. Sebastian has no idea what else to say anyway, so he just kisses him to prove him how sincere his feelings are. They should be together.

They belong together.

Chris pushes Sebastian against the handrail that he hits lightly. The kiss is soft but Chris is struggling inside. He’s not fully there. Why is it so complicated for him to let go? If he wasn’t so stubbornly holding on that idea that he destroys everything he touches, they’d be happier than the definition of the word happy. Chris pulls away, and Sebastian allows himself to take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry about the fight,” Chris says, sticking his forehead to Sebastian’s. “It’s just… The way he talked about you,” he frowns, looking away, “and what you said earlier.” Chris moves away, making a small step back. “The fact he hurt you and it’s stopping him from sleeping fine,” he’s grasping at the handrail now, looking at the city. “I haven’t slept one proper night since you left.”

“Haven’t slept much either,” Sebastian confesses, softly.

“And what he said, when you left to get your stuff,” his voice is a bit louder now, no more a whisper but a cautious tone, “he said I could try as hard as I wanted, you’d always belong to him.”

“That’s not true–” Sebastian says, frowning. He’s nobody’s propriety.

“ _I know_ ,” Chris cuts him, speaking now. “I know, but the idea it could be, the idea you could want him again, give him another chance too… Just the idea of you with someone else,” Chris says, gesturing widely like he can’t find the words. “I know, _I know_ how selfish and horrible it sounds, I know it but _jeez_ I love you baby, I love you so much–”

“I love you too,” he murmurs, but he’s not sure Chris hears him. Sebastian’s scared of where this conversation is going.

“ –But I’m terrified,” Chris keeps talking, definitely trying to cling on that train of thoughts that goes too fast for him. “Because I’ve never felt this way before, I’ve never loved anyone like this, like I love you. It’s just so strong, so much, I don’t know what to do with all those feelings and I screwed up, I know. I don’t want to lose you again, and I don’t want to disappoint you again,” he says, spitting everything out and Sebastian listens and stares voiceless. Chris is unable to meet his eyes, his own watering with tears. “And you’re talking about kids, and a house, and you love me. _You love me._ ”

“I mean what I said you know, that I was broken before I met you,” Chris adds, and his voice derails. “I was a gigantic mess, even worse than now and I know loving me ain’t easy, I’m a wreck of a soul and I can slip back to my demons and I yell and bark when I’m scared,” he says and his voice is nearly singing now, words coming to him so easily. “But you make it look so simple, to love me. You make me feel like I might worth something, as a person, and I don’t understand why you’d love me but you do, and maybe I can learn to love myself too,” he says, definitely crying now but it’s subtle. “But to know someone hurt you,” Chris spits, “and talks about you the way he did,” he pauses, jaw clenched and grasping harder at the handrail, “I can’t stand it.”

Sebastian swallows and Chris looks down. “I love you and I’m sorry if it’s too much,” he looks at his left, at the opposite of where Sebastian is standing, refusing to look at him, refusing to let Sebastian see him cry. “I’m just too much,” he adds before laughing quietly, looking in front of him like he’s confessing to the whole city.

 _We’re both too much,_ Sebastian wants to say, but he’s lost his voice.

Chris’ mouth must be dry because Sebastian sees and hears him swallowing. He looks back Sebastian with clear eyes like his thoughts finally cleared as well. Chris whispers so low Sebastian can’t hear what he says. Chris takes a short intake of breath. He let go of the handrail and his open hands are shivering from emotions, he closes them and opens them, unable to decide what the best option is.

He looks at Sebastian, finally, saying words lowly to hear them in his mouth first, to hear them aloud but not too loud, not loud enough for Sebastian to hear. He’s trying to convince himself or maybe just realising their veracity. That they were true all along but he was too dumb to believe. “You, it’s you, it’s always been you,” he says, “it was always supposed to be you and, fuck, just… Marry me?”

“Wha–” Sebastian tries to speak but it gets stuck in his throat, too moved by his speech to be sure he’s heard that well. He coughs, “What?”

“Stop crying,” Chris asks gently, stepping closer. “I said marry me? Please? I don’t know just… You said you imagined us married, with kids and all that stuff. I don’t want to go through one more day worrying about shit. I love you, that’s all that counts right?”

Sebastian sniffles. Five minutes ago Chris wanted to stop everything and now he’s… Now he’s proposing. He’s like a human version of a rollercoaster.

Chris walks closer, closer until he’s close enough to cup Sebastian’s chin and wipe his tears. “Who cares if you’re 21 and I’m much older,” Chris says softly, “and who cares if I just punched your ex and broke his nose?”

Sebastian laughs lightly through his tears, “You broke his nose?”

“I love you, that’s all I care about,” Chris repeats, “I care about you, and making you smile and laugh and not disappoint you, I guess, just, marry me?” he asks a third time and it’s not making anymore real to hear.

Chris heaves a sigh, partially relieved he finally let out everything he’s been holding inside for months. He’s gauche but he’s adorable, smiling like an idiot with hope in his blue and wet eyes and Sebastian’s heart is racing, so filled with love.

Seeing Sebastian’s not answering, just staring, Chris adds with a quiet chuckle, “I’m sorry, that’s the worst proposal ever.”

“No,” Sebastian answers, “it’s–”

“No?” Chris cuts him off, “no, I mean, I understand–”

“No!” Sebastian cuts him at his turn, “I mean, yes, _yes_.”

“Yes? Yes you want to marry me?” Chris asks again, and it peals in Sebastian’s ears this time, that word. “I’m kinda confused right now,” Chris laughs and shakes his head, looking for a clue in Sebastian’s eyes.

“Yes,” Sebastian repeats. “Yes I’ll marry you. Yes I love you,” he clarifies, “no it’s not the worst proposal ever.”

“Should I –wait,” Chris says, going down on one knee. Sebastian bites his lower lip. Is he really doing this? Are they really doing this? With a steadier and a more serious voice Chris says, “Let’s make one thing right tonight.”

He grabs Sebastian’s hand and his thumb starts to stroke the back of it. “I don’t have a ring, or anything,” he says, “I just have my heart, even if you already have it –it’s just,” Chris shakes his head again, aware of his cheesy words. Looking deep into Sebastian’s eyes he asks as charming as he’s ever been, “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Sebastian answers softly, “yes, _of course yes_.”

Chris stares, beaming, on his knee, holding Sebastian’s hand without exactly knowing what to do with it. He glances down at their hands and back at Sebastian. “It feels awkward without a ring.”

“You bought me a necklace,” Sebastian helps, then confesses, “still around my neck.”

“You bought me a star,” Chris replies with a light chuckle. “I can’t compete with a star. Do you realise how hard it is to compete with a star?”

Sebastian laughs, happy tears on his cheeks. They’re being overly ridiculous but he doesn’t care, Chris doesn’t seem to care either. That’s what it should be like, they shouldn’t care about anything else than what makes both of them happy –and a cheesy, ridiculous, love dripping proposal on Scarlett’s balcony is what makes them happy right now. “I don’t want a star,” Sebastian says.

“What do you want?”

“I want you to love me.”

Chris smiles wider, “I do love you.”

“Then kiss me,” Sebastian says and Chris obeys in a heartbeat, both hands enveloping Sebastian’s cheeks, still gigantic and warm. His lips rush on Sebastian’s mouth. It’s gauche and not the greatest kiss they’ve ever had, laughing and smiling, too much teeth but they’re happy and that makes it an unforgettable kiss.

Chris’ hands fall down to land on his hips and slide on his back, tightening his hold on him, lifting him off his feet. Sebastian’s doesn’t lose time to wrap his legs around his waist, his smile still glued on Chris’ mouth. “I love you,” he says again, in case Chris doesn’t know that yet.

“I love you,” Chris echoes back then suddenly realize, “Scarlett’s gonna kill me.”

“She’ll have to kill me first,” Sebastian answers, amused.

“Having each other’s back, uh?” Chris asks with the most beautiful smile he’s ever worn, Sebastian prays he never loses it.

“Hey, you punched my ex in the face,” he jokes, “I owe you that.” But jokes aside, Scarlett’s gonna tear his head off when she learns about it.

“I’m pretty sure I broke his nose,” Chris brags and laughs at the same time, it should be wrong, Sebastian should wince but it shamefully makes him love Chris a little more. Chris defended him in almost a chivalrous way. Sebastian hates violence, he does, but there, there he wants to make one single exception in his life and forgive Chris, because Chris didn’t want to fight. Chris didn’t want to and he was about to leave with him when Anthony said that word tying his stomach in knots.

“I’m not gonna break Scarlett’s nose for you,” Sebastian says to forget about that word.

“Oh god,” Chris bursts out in laughter, “please don’t.”

Chris is smiling, and Sebastian stares at him before stealing a kiss at those happy lips.

Chris puts him down on his feet, eventually. “So you still want me to take you home?” he asks.

“If we’re getting married,” Sebastian starts, wrapping his arms around Chris’ chest now. “I think we should move in together.”

“Yeah,” Chris says, burying his nose in Sebastian’s hair and leaving another kiss there. “Yeah, I think you should move in with me. I mean until we get that cabin in the woods.”

“We’re keeping the apartment though,” Sebastian objects.

Chris kisses his way down Sebastian’s neck, hiding there. “Why? We don’t need it.”

 “We’re singers, of course we need an apartment in town.” Sebastian smiles at Chris’ kisses.

Chris sighs, whining, “Okay, you have a point.” He straightens, leaving another kiss on Sebastian’s forehead before walking in direction of the door, grabbing Sebastian’s hand. Sebastian follows him until Chris stops, “Should we tell Scarlett now?”

“Don’t you want to enjoy a last night with me before she cuts off your balls?” Sebastian jokes.

Chris laughs. “You’re right,” he says, kissing Sebastian’s cheek, “I gotta take care of you first.”

Sebastian giggles. “That sounds like a promising night.”

“I hope you don’t have anything planned tomorrow, because you’re not leaving the bed for the next twenty four hours.”

“I’m all yours,” Sebastian answers, happiness and promises beating in his chest.

They step inside and Chris sticks himself to Sebastian’s back, following him in the crowded room. It’s like nobody noticed they disappeared for awhile, nobody cared. Like the fight never happened either. Everyone’s enjoying the party and they are a few furtive looks thrown at them when they pass their way, but mostly everyone’s ignoring them.

Scarlett and Jeremy are near the fireplace, talking with some manager Sebastian met a few times. They discreetly try to sneak up to them and while Jeremy smiles when he notices, Scarlett looks furious. Scarlett’s terrifying expression catches Sebastian’s attention, but before she gets the chance to say anything, Sebastian speaks up, “I’m sorry for ruining your night.”

Her thundering eyes leave Chris for a moment and she frowns in incomprehension. “You didn’t do anything,” she says, “but you’re gonna have to talk to me about Anthony, I’ve never seen him like that.”

“I should be the one apologizing, I’m sorry I started that fight,” Chris says, and at the sound of his voice, Scarlett glances at him.

“Honestly? I would have if you hadn’t,” she confesses.

“Yeah, well I’m not sure it’s smart to fight in your condition,” Jeremy says, and Sebastian’s eyes widen when he sees his face, he’s got a nasty bruise.

_“He hit you?!”_

“Don’t worry ‘bout that kid, I’m tough.” Jeremy winks but Scarlett rolls her eyes and turns around, grabbing the ice pack to hand it to him. Jeremy takes it and puts it on his face, inhaling sharply.

“I can’t believe he hit you,” Sebastian whispers in disbelief, he never thought Anthony would go that far. Sure, fighting with Chris was one thing, it was about him, it was his ego or whatever, even though Sebastian remains sure Anthony never wanted to _fight_ per se, more push Chris to his limits to show who he really is. Hitting and fighting with Jeremy is something else Sebastian can’t understand.

“Hey,” Jeremy interjects, seeing Sebastian’s going too far in his head and memories. “Don’t worry about that. You want to do something for me? You two go home and you forget about this.”

“He’s right,” Scarlett adds, but she doesn’t look convinced. “I’m mean I’m still not thrilled about you two,” she gestures at them, “together again, or whatever’s going on, _but,_ yeah, you should go home and forget about that stupid fight.”

Sebastian looks up at Chris and his mouth is open, ready to speak but before he can let a sound out, Scarlett speaks again.  “I want you to prove me I’m wrong Chris, I really do,” she says, “I want you two to be happy together, but so far I spent my time comforting both of you. You know I love you, but you can’t reproach me to be worried, Chris.”

“I’m not reproaching you anything,” he retorts, “I’m terrified of screwing up again.”

“Then don’t,” she says, but it sounds more like a warning.

“Actually I have an idea,” Chris announces, “let’s do one thing. From now on, I’m done drinking–” Sebastian looks up at him again, he desperately wants to believe what he’s hearing, and he’s going to do anything Chris needs to help him through this. “But Sebastian’s right,” he adds, “I can’t do this alone, so I need you to do one thing for me.”

“Anything,” Jeremy says.

“Help me.”

He says two words, just two simple words but Sebastian’s throat tightens when he hears them. He knows just how _hard_ it is for Chris to ask for help, to admit he _can’t_ do something alone, that he _needs_ help. It’s a reflex, but Sebastian grabs his hand to show him no matter what he’s there, and he’s gonna help.

“How?” Scarlett asks, but she doesn’t seem angry anymore. Her thundering eyes turned into heart shaped ones.

“I don’t know yet,” Chris says, pulling at Sebastian’s hand, “but maybe if I want a drink, if I _need_ a drink, maybe instead I can just… call one of you instead?”

“Works for me,” Jeremy says.

Sebastian smiles weakly, this is a great idea and this is Chris stepping up for him, learning he’s worth something, he can achieve something, that he can love himself one day just as much as Sebastian loves him. He’s proud, he’s proud of Chris.

Scarlett nods, “you know you can always call me anytime.”

“My phone’s glued to my ear,” Jeremy says too, “anytime you need.”

Chris looks down at Sebastian, apprehensive for some reason but Sebastian smiles and says it, “I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you,” Chris mouths before kissing him.

Scarlett starts laughing discreetly and before the kiss gets out of control she speaks again, “all right, enough you two. Go before I change my mind.”

Chris looks at her, grinning. “You mean we have your blessing?” he asks sarcastically.

“Don’t push it too far, Evans,” she says, but she’s smiling, almost blushing. “You better treat him right.”

“You can be sure that’s what I’m gonna do all night,” Chris answers. Sebastian blushes and laughs; Scarlett’s eyes shut close and she shake her head, laughing too and Jeremy winks at them.

“Just go,” Scarlett repeats, looking away but she hugs them before they do.

She probably said something to Chris while she hugged him because she takes the time to whisper in Sebastian’s ear a few words about both Anthony and Chris. She says they really have to talk about what happened with Anthony and what’s gonna happen with Chris because she doesn’t want Sebastian to relive the same thing twice.

Jeremy hands him his jacket that Sebastian lost some time between the fight and the conversation with Chris outside and hugs him too. One good thing about everything that’s happened with Chris is that they both grew closer. Jeremy is definitely someone Sebastian can rely on now.

In the cab, Sebastian snuggles close to Chris in the back seat, loving the sensation of his head on his shoulder again and Chris’ hand between his thighs. The whole ride is silent and Sebastian processes everything during it. How the night evolved so drastically. Chris fought, Anthony sure, for words Sebastian wishes he’ll be able to forget one day but he still hears them clearly for now.

They argued, they shouted. Sebastian shouted. Sebastian fought to, for what he believed was right and it feels good to fight for what you want sometimes. And they’re engaged. Oh, he’s not gonna let Chris back off on this. Chris said it’s always been Sebastian, well for Sebastian it’s always been Chris. He loves him, so much it scares the hell out of him but he loves him and they can manage to make this work.

Sebastian’s silent again when they get into the elevator and when Chris opens the door and switch the lights on; not much has changed. Still the same loft Sebastian left a month or so ago, one detail close, when Sebastian left there was one bottle on the counter; there are a few of now, all empty.

Chris notices what catches his attention and he sighs, gathers them all to throw them away. He steps closer to Sebastian, cupping his chin with his index. “Fresh new start,” he repeats.

“You’re stronger than your demons, Chris. I believe that, you just need to believe it too.”

“Well, if I stop believing you’ll remind me, right?”

“That’s my job,” Sebastian smiles. “As your boyfriend,” his smile grows wider, “as your fiancé.”

“I hate that word,” Chris laughs quietly, looking away.

“Then marry me quick so I can use the word husband.”

Chris frowns. “We’re not going to Vegas,” he states.

“No, I hate Vegas,” Sebastian tells him.

Chris stares at him then laughs again. He steps closer to kiss Sebastian lightly on the lips, then on the cheek until he’s reached his ear. “We’ll get married soon enough, what about we enjoy tonight first? While I still have my balls.”

“All night, uh?” Sebastian teases.

“Hmhm.”

“Aren’t you too old to make such promises?” He teases again.

Chris’ mouth drops open, _“Hey!”_ He looks back at Sebastian, stares for a few seconds, “I’ll show you if I’m too old,” he says before sweeping Sebastian off his feet, crashing their mouths together, happily, clumsily, teeth hitting teeth and probably biting lips too.

“Yeah?” Sebastian laughs, wrapping his arms around Chris’ neck, and his legs around his waist, ready to carried to their bed.

“Yeah,” Chris answers as he draws away to breathe. “Too old,” he scoffs, “I can do that all night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, this is the end. It had to happen, right? I'm gonna miss those two idiots! I want to thank everyone who took the time to read my little *cough* story, I hope I didn't disappoint you. Thank you for reading, following, subscribing, leaving kudos and comments, it means a lot to me. It's the first time I write and /finish/ a long story all by myself, so thank you for sharing that with me ♥
> 
> Oh and Happy New Year to all of you! :D

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to [this girl](http://idratherhaveyoumetalarmornot.tumblr.com/) for inspiring this fic, and for coping with me and also [this girl](http://lovealetterbomb.tumblr.com/), because she's the greatest.


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